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i 


A   BRUSH   WITH   THE  HALF-BREEDS. 


-n 


•  •    i^H Ev  •  • 


YOUNG  NEWSPAPER  SCOUT. 


An    iiitere^itiiijT    narrative  of    .•  i    boy'w    nrl 
ventiirets    in  the    Northwest   durinj^ 
the    Kiel    Rebellion. 


BY 


KORRESl"    ORISSEY. 


\A, 


w 


M 


Author  of    "A    I.ODI   GiRL,"    *' THK   YOUNG   EXPLORER," 

•        •        •        I-'    I   v^  •        •        •        • 


CHICAOO: 

W.    R.    CoNKEY     CorvmANY. 

1805. 


•O      v--"   >w' 


O'^ 


R  6>'yf  yc. 


Copyright    1802, 

by 
MID-("ONTlNKNT  PUBLISHING  ("QMPANY. 


Copyright  1895, 

by 

W.     B.    rONKEY     COMPANY. 


'% 


PREFACE. 


THIS  book  is  written  by  the  author  in  the  belief 
that  boys  enjoy  best  those  stories  which  are 
truest  to  real  life  in  characters,  plot  and  coloring. 
It  has  seemed  to  him  that  their  interest  in  a  "  hero" 
who  has  the  faults  and  limitations  of  "a  good  average 
boy,"  acting  under  environments  of  ordinary  impor- 
tance and  probability,  is  keener  than  in  an  impossible 
prodigy  of  juv^enile  wisdom  and  courage  who  finds 
iiimself  in  a  complex  tangle  of  stupendous  difficulties, 
from  which  he  frees  himself  by  a  series  of  daring 
adventures  sufficiently  melodramic  to  appal  the 
"heavy  villain"  in  a  third-rate  tragedy. 

The  boy  who  has  a  single  real  adventure,  in  the 
usual  juvenile  acceptance  of  the  term,  is  a  rare 
exception,  for  in  oiihvard  circumstance  and  perils 
most  boyhoods  are  commonplace  enough.  What, 
then,  shall  be  said  of  the  books  which  picture  their 
boy  heroes  as  suffering  from  an  epidemic — a  veritible 
cholera-infantum — of  material  perils?  Certainly  they 
are  not  true  pictures  of  boy  life  as  an  average,  or 
even  as  an  average  of  reasonable  exceptions. 

It  is  to  be  doubted  whether  the  time  has  come 
when  the  mass  of  story-reading  American  boys  can 

8 


PREFACE. 


#     I 


be  vitally  and  surely  interested  in  a  true  picture  of 
•'average  "boyhood;  but  the  author  does  believe  that 
boy  readers  are  bright  and  keen  enough  to  derive 
greater  pleasure  from  the  account  of  the  struggles 
of  a  boy  of  only  average  qualities  against  odds  and 
obstacles  of  reasonable  number  and  diflficulty,  than 
from  the  narrative  of  the  "adventures"  of  a  boy  of 
impossible  virtues,  triumphing  over  perils  which, 
both  in  character  and  number,  could  in  no  human 
probability  have  surrounded  one  boy  in  ten-thousand. 

The  author  does  not  imagine  that  he  has  given 
in  the  following  pages  a  true  picture  of  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  an  average  boyhood;  but  he  hopes  that  the 
adventures  of  "The  Young  Newspaper  Scout/'  are 
fairly  representative  of  the  character,  perils  and 
triumphs  of  the  "average  of  exceptions"  which  lift 
the  lives  of  frontier  boys  from  the  lines  of  uniform 
common  place  in  which  the  careers  of  most  boys  are 
spent.  He  is  at  least  confident  that  his  readers  will 
not  find  a  single  "situation"  in  the  following  story 
which  is  not  justified  by  reasonable  probability. 
More  than  that,  he  believes  that  the  same  justifica- 
tion of  probability  will  apply  to  the  story  as  a  whole, 
both  in  the  environments  and  situations  with  which 
Rodney  found  himself  surrounded  and  in  the  action 
which  they  called  forth. 

Geneva,  111.  F.  C. 


CONTENTS. 


c. 


CHAl'. 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V, 

\l. 
\  111. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 


VAC.E 

In  Desi'f^ratk   Stkaits \) 

A  Ni:w    IIoi'K 14 

FoKTUNic   OK  Wak '2(i 

Pkoud    Pki:i'Akati()N's 'X\ 


A  liRUSH  WITH   THK    I Ialk-Ukkiids , 


40 


A  FiKRCK  Battlk  at    Fish  Ckkek r)2 

The  Lost    Child (54 

A   Foraging  Expedition 77 

An    Indian  Am  hush 92 


Under   Double  Fire. 
Camp    Scenes 


101 

109 

The  Rout  of  the  Rebels 117 

In  at   the  Capture 127 

On  the  Trail  of  Big   Bear l.'J4 


The   Cache, 


14.3 


The  Night  Alarm 15:J 

The  Return ir)2 


An  Independent  Venture 


A  Small  Footing 


A  Great  Triumph 


,170 

179 

.188 


a 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

A  Brush  with  the  Half-Bkeeds Frontispiece. 

Rescue  of  the  Lost  Chilo ^.j 

The  Foraging  Expedition 9,j 

'Hands  Up!" j.,. 

Pink-eve's  Revenge ^n 

The  Great  Find j,y 

The  Camp  Scene  on  the    Traii.  oe  Bk;   I^kak i.-»9 

Rodney  Shows  his  Mother  Old  Pink-eve    and    his 
Rifle  and  Saddle i.^o 

lirj 

Rodney  and  the  Chicago  Newsijovs 177 

"Dear  Sir -Come  at  once;  will  pay  you  S200  and 
expenses" ,(,., 


CHAPTER    I. 


IN    DESPERATE   .t TRAITS. 

IT  was  almost  sunset  of  an  April  day  in  1885,  when 
Rodney  Merton  came  a^ain  in  si^lit  of  Ft.  QirAp- 
pellc,  after  the  first  nights  of  absence  from  home  that 
he  had  ever  experienced.  lie  had  left  his  mother's 
cabin  early  Monday  morning  and  it  was  now  Wednes- 
day. His  eyes  brightened  as  he  stopped  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  dusty  road  and  tja/.ed  at  the  little  hamlet, 
with  its  old  log  fort  surrounded  by  a  high  palisade, 
the  new  post  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  and  a 
cluster  of  cabins. 

Now  that  he  was  once  more  in  sight  of  home — 
which  he  mentally  declared  had  never  "  looked  so 
good"  to  him  before — he  felt  that  he  could  afford 
to  sit  down  and  rest  for  a  few  minutes.  This  was  a 
luxury  which  he  had  allowed  himself  but  few  times 
during  the  two  day's  tramp  from  Grenfell,  a  distance 
of  thirty-five  miles  from  Ft.  Qu'Appelle.  His  coat 
was  hung  on  the  end  of  a  stick,  carried  over  his 
shoulder,  and  his  calico  shirt  was  dark  and  wet  with 
perspiration  along  the  lines  of  his  buckskin  sus- 
penders and  wherever  it  touched  his  heated  body, 
for  it  was  the  first  really  warm  day  of  the  late  spring. 

As  the  boy  turned  out  of  the  road  and  climed  a 

9 


10 


THE    YOUNG    NEWSFAPKR     SCOUT. 


'!! 


i  I 


little  knoll,  which  commanded  a  better  view  of  the 
town,  his  steps  were  slow  and  dragging,  and  he 
frequently  pressed  his  right  hand  upon  his  knee,  as 
though  his  tired  legs,  which  had  become  sore  and 
aching  with  the  long  walk,  were  unequal  to  the  task 
ot  carrying  him  to  the  summit  of  the  rise. 

Dropping  upon  the  ground  under  the  flickering 
shade  of  a  IJalm  of  Gilead,  he  stretched  out  at  full 
length,  and  with  an  involuntary  sigh  of  relief,  pulled 
the  smooth-worn  visor  of  his  home-made  fur  cap 
down  over  his  eyes,  and  lay  for  a  time  in  motionless 
repose. 

Not  until  a  kingfisher  rattled  his  harsh  challenge 
and  dove,  from  the  limb  of  a  dead  tree  down  into 
the  still  w.iter  of  the  Qu'Appclle  river,  did  Rodney 
stir.  The  guilty  terror  in  which  he  started  up,  just 
as  the  bird  splashed  into  the  water  and  rose  with  a 
small  fish  in  its  mouth,  would  have  convicted  him 
of  having  been  asleep,  even  though  he  had  not 
rubbed  his  eyes  and  yawned.  Then  he  sat  for  a 
moment,  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees  and  his  chin 
in  his  hands,  looking  dreamily  at  the  shimmering 
river  and  the  little  trading  post  where  his  whole  life 
had  been  spent. 

His  return  from  this  first  solitary  journey  into  the 
world  seemed  a  greater  event  to  him,  after  his  three 
days  absence,  than  home-coming  from  years  of 
foreign  travel  has  seemed  to  many  an  adult.  He 
wondered  what  had  happened  while  he  had  been 
away  and  what  his  mother  and  the  boys  about  the 
fort  would  say  to  him. 


IN    DESPERATE    STRAITS. 


II 


If  the  object  of  his  expedition  to  Grcnfell  had 
only  proved  successful  he  would  have  felt  like  a 
conquering  hero,  returning  to  his  native  town,  ready 
to  receive  the  admiration  and  the  applause  of  the 
inhabitants. 

But  absolute  and  hopeless  failure  had  been  his  lot 
and  he  felt  like  sneaking  unnoticed  around  behind 
the  fort  and  post  to  his  mother's  cabin,  instead  of 
taking  the  main  street.  He  did  not,  however,  long 
entertain  this  suggestion,  for  the  thought  of  doing 
anything  underhanded  or  sneaking  went  very  much 
"against  the  grain"  and  made  him  suffer  severely 
from  remorse  and  self-contempt  wherever  he  yielded 
to  such  an  impulse. 

After  a  few  moments  of  gloomy  meditation, 
Rodney  aroused  himself,  drew  from  his  pocket  a 
Winnepeg  paper  and  re-read,  for  the  third  time,  the 
account  of  the  Duck  Lake  massacre  in  which  the 
Half  Breeds  and  Indians  had  inaugurated  the  Riel 
Rebellion.  It  was  a  bloody  protest  against  wrongs 
w  hich  bore  heavily  upon  nearly  every  poor  family  in 
the  Saskatchewan  and  Ou'Appelle  Valleys,  and 
especially  upon  Rodney  Merton  and  his  weary  over- 
worked mother. 

Some  years  before,  Thomas  Merton,  along  with  a 
few  other  hardy  and  courageous  pioneers,  had  come 
to  the  valley  and  settled  upon  Government  land,  in 
the  full  faith  that,  by  enduring  the  hardships  and 
privations  necessary  in  reclaiming  the  wilderness,  he 
might  secure  a  comfortable  home  for  himself,  n  his 
old  age  and  for  his  family.     He  and  his  companions 


li 


!!l 


12 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


had,  worked  early  and  late  in  this  hope,  only  to  find, 
after  fifteen  years  of  unrelaxed  struggle,  that  the 
Government  still  refused  them  the  titles  to  their 
homesteads.  Here  Rodney  had  been  born.  He 
began  early  to  share  the  hard  labor  and  the  priva- 
tions of  pioneering  and  had  grown  up  to  the  age  of 
fifteen.  Discouragement,  resulting  from  the  convic- 
tion that  they  would  never  have  their  home  "free," 
and  the  exposure  to  the  extremes  of  the  severe 
climate  broke  down  Thomas  Merton's  courage  and 
health.  After  a  lingering  illness,  which  had  lasted 
through  the  winter,  he  died,  leaving  Mrs.  Merton  and 
Rodney  to  finish  the  hopeless  struggle  for  a  home  as 
best  they  might. 

During  previous  winters,  Rodney  had  been  under 
the  instruction  of  the  local  priest  and  had  made  rapid 
advancement  in  studies  of  which  most  boys  of  his 
age  knew  little  or  nothing;  but  this  fall  he  had  been 
obliged  by  his  father's  illness  to  do  almost  a  man's 
work.  In  addition  to  cutting  the  wood  and  doing  all 
of  the  chores,  he  had  managed  to  keep  quite  a  suc- 
cessful string  of  traps  in  operation,  and  when  he  drew 
his  pack  of  pelts  on  his  hand-sled,  down  to  the 
Hudson  Bay  post  it  seemed  almost  large  enough  to 
buy  out  the  whole  stock. 

But  as  Leveque  the  local  agent  in  charge,  told 
him  that  there  were  forty  dollars  due  the  company 
from  his  father,  after  crediting  up  the  furs,  he  went 
home  with  a  heavy  heart. 

"We've  got  to  pay  it  off  some  way,  even  if  you 
have  to  work  it  out,"  his  mother  had  said,  in  the 


I 


IN    DESPERATE   STRAITS. 


13 


•I 


hopeless  tone  in  which  she  had  come  to  voice  her 
few  words. 

"All  right,  Ma  I'll  do  it  if  Leveque  will  take  me 
in,"  Rodney  had  promptly  replied.  This  was  fol- 
lowed by  offering  his  services  to  Leveque,  who  kept 
the  boy  during  the  busy  season,  until  the  family  ac- 
count was  settled.  Then  he  told  Rodn'^y  that  he 
did  not  need  his  help  longer  and  that  in  the  future 
Mrs.  Merton  would  be  obliged  to  pay  for  whatever 
supplies  she  wished  to  buy. 

Hard  times  began  in  earnest  after  this  dismissal, 
and  it  was  by  only  the  most  patient  industry  and 
persistent  watchfulness  that  Rodney  contrived  to 
keep  his  mother  and  himself  in  food.  When  the  last 
hope  of  obtaining  employment  near  home  was  gone, 
he  had  bravely  set  out  to  look  for  work  of  any  kind 
in  Grenfell. 

Now  he  was  returning,  after  having  met  with 
unvaried  failures  and  rebuffs. 


CHAPTER  II. 


ii;:i 


I'll 


1 


ill 

I 
iil 


A  NEW  HOPE. 

AFTER  thinking  these  matters  all  over  again, 
Rodney  picked  up  his  coat  and  stick  and 
again  resumed  his  journey. 

He  had  walked  but  a  few  rods  when  a  boyish 
whoop  burst  from  his  lips  at  the  sight  of  the  tents 
of  the  regular  troops,  on  the  side  of  the  river  op- 
posite the  town,  which  had  before  been  shut  off  from 
his  view  by  a  strip  of  timber. 

As  he  approached  past  the  old  fort,  he  noticed 
that  it  was  occupied. 

A  group  of  smaller  boys  were  crowding  about 
the  entrance  to  the  stockade  and  staring  at  the  men 
inside. 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  Rodney  inquired  of  the  spell- 
bound youngsters. 

"Scouts!  "  was  the  whispered  answer,  from  half 
a  dozen  of  the  awed  half-breed  children. 

Not  until  then  had  he  realized  that  he  was  in 
the  presence  of  war.  The  fighting  at  Duck  Lake 
had  seemed  very  far  off  in  the  cold  newspaper  type. 
It  made  his  blood  leap  to  watch  the  scouts  cleaning 
their  **  Snyders  "  and  revolvers;  and  he  found  him- 
self wishing  that  he  might  enlist  with  them. 

B'lt  as  he  turned  away  from  this  fascinating  sight 

u 


A   NEW   HOPE. 


IS 


5pell- 
half 


sight 


and  continued  his  homeward  walk  the  thought, 
which  had  not  occurred  to  him  while  watching  the 
scouts,  flashed  through  his  mind;  they  were  his  en- 
emies, fighting  to  continue  the  oppression  which 
had  broken  down  his  father  and  which  promised  to 
turn  his  mother  and  himself  from  the  home  for 
which  his  father  sacrificed  health  and  life  itself.  If 
he  were  to  join  cither  side  it  must  be  that  of  the 
settlers.  He  would  talk  it  over  with  his  mother  that 
night.  If  he  could  only  enlist  as  a  drummer  boy  or 
"  something  of  that  kind,"  his  pay  would  support 
his  mother,  and  he  might  win  promotion  by  his 
bravery.  Then  when  the  war  was  over  and  the  fol- 
lowers of  Riel  were  victorious,  he  would  be  given  a 
position  as  captain  of  the  mounted  police.  He  was 
picturing  to  himself  how  he  would  look  entering  the 
through-train  from  the  east,  demanding  satchel  keys 
from  unwilling  passengers,  and  ordering  his  men  to 
"  go  through  "  the  baggage  and  search  the  suspicious 
characters  for  smuggled  liquor  and  goods.  He  could 
even  hear  the  imaginary  clink  of  glass  flasks  as  his 
subordinates  dashed  them  out  of  the  windows  and 
shattered  them  upon  the  ground. 

''Look  out!  Want  to  run  right  over  a  lot  of  us 
small  folks!"  good-naturedly  exclaimed  a  genial 
loafer,  whose  tilted  chair,  in  front  of  the  post,  Rod- 
ney had  almost  overturned  in  his  heedless  course. 

Rodney  blushed  and  stammered  his  apologies^ 
while  the  hangers-on  joined  in  the  laugh. 

"Well;  what  luck?"  asked  Leveque,  who  came  to 
the  door  behind  an  out-going  customer. 


i6 


THE    YOUNG    NEWSI'APKR    SCOUT. 


il 


!ii 


RckIiicv  simply  shook  his  hc.ul. 

"h^li-ha!  sorry!"  meditatively  {ijruntccl  the  apjcnt, 
as  Rt)dney  passed  on  up  the  hill  toward  home,  think- 
iu'^  that  it'  Leveque  were  really  very  sorry  he  would 


^"ive  him  work. 


As  Rodney  came  around  the  corner  of  the  cabin, 
Mrs.  Merton  was  dipping  spoonfuls  of  yellow  corn- 
meal  dout^di  from  an  old  basin  on  to  the  board  which 
lay  in  front  of  a  populous  hen  coop,  and  stood 
watching  the  downy  balls  of  chickcnhood  as  they 
picked  impotently  at  the  wet  meal  in  imitation  of 
the  coaxing  mother  hen,  which  set  them  a  noisy  and 
excited  example. 

She  started  at  the  sound  of  his  quiet  approach, 
pushed  back  her  sun-bonnet,  and  smiled  for  almost 
tlic  first  time  that  he  could  remember  since  his  fath- 
er's death. 

"Well;  ma!"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  came  awkwardly 
and  almost  bashfully  toward  her,  wondering  whether 
or  not  she  would  kiss  him.  He  was  going  to  ask: 
"Did  I  scare  you?"  but  he  did  not  have  time  before 
she  dropped  the  basin  and  spoon,  and  without  say- 
ing a  word  kissed  him  impulsively. 

There  followed  amoment  of  embarrassing  silence, 
which  was  finally  relieved  by  Rodney,  as  he  picked 
up  the  fallen  basin  and  rapped  its  edge,  with  a 
startling  bang  against  the  board  in  front  of  the  coop. 

"WeliK'  said  his  mother,  in  the  hopeless  tone 
which  plainly  implied  "I  know  the  worst  has  hap- 
pened." 

"No;  I  didn't"  get  anything  to  do,  ma.     But  I 


1 


A   NEW   HOPE. 


cjiicss  it'll  come  out  all  ri^lit,  somehow.  Any\\a\' 
they've  had  an  awful  firjht  at  Duck  Lake,  and  Rii  I's 
men  cleaned  out  everything.  I  broucjht  you  a  Win- 
nipeg paper  that's  ^ot  all  about  it  in." 

Mrs.  Merton  looked  at  him  in  dazed  astonish- 
ment, wondering  what  he  could  possibly  mean  i)y 
connecting  the  news  of  the  bloody  outbreak  with 
the  hope  that  their  hard  fortunes  would  finally  mend. 

"Have't  you  heard  about  it,  yet?  Why  the  oUl 
fort's  full  of  scouts  now." 

*'Yes,  I  heard  they'd  ben  a  fight,  but  I  don't  see 
what  that's  got  to  do  with  it,"  replied  Mrs.  Merton. 

Seeing  that  the  time  was  not  yet  ripe  to  discuss 
the  daring  project  of  joining  the  Rebels  as  a  drum- 
mer boy,  Rodney  made  no  reply,  but  went  to  the 
spring  to  wash.  Mrs.  Merton  quickly  resumed  her 
usual  manner  and  said: 

"Supper's  ready — what  they  is  of  it." 

The  startling  expression  of  affection  into  which 
Mrs.  Merton's  emotions  had  betrayed  her,  on  seeing 
her  boy  safely  home  again  and  the  hopeless  anc^ 
almost  ironical  suggestion  in  regard  to  the  meager 
limitations  of  the  supper  affected  the  boy  more 
keenly  than  any  other  words  he  had  ever  heard. 
The  latter  aroused  him  to  the  realization  that  they 
were  in  desperate  need  for  the  common  necessities 
of  life,  while  the  caress  awakened  an  intense  and 
active  love  for  his  mother  that  he  had  not  been  con- 
scious of  before.  A  painful  sense  of  the  pitiful  mis- 
ery and  loneliness  of  her  life  and  the  patient  en- 
durance with  which  she  met  each  day  of  its  weary 


U): 


i8 


THE   YOUNG   NKWSrAI'KK    SCOUT. 


i 


!i':' 

!l:! 


Ill 

I 

I  ■' .' 

Ihi,' 

1;:: 
•!i 

ii 


lIMl 


i   ii' 


ill- 

I'l  I 

II 


iii 


and  hopeless  continuance  came  over  him.  A  new 
purpose  and  courage  took  possession  of  him.  He 
would  not  only  take  heart  himself  and  in  some  way 
keep  her  from  want  and  get  the  homestead  clear, 
but  he  would  have  courage  for  both  her  and  himself 
and  make  her  feel  that  she  was  going  to  be  taken 
care  of.     As  they  sat  down  to  supper  Rodney  said: 

"Ma,  don't  you  'sposc  that  Riel  has  scouts  just 
the  same  as  the  Government  has?" 

"  'Course.  I  sh'd  think  so,  anyway.  Don't  the 
paper  tell?"  she  answered,  absently. 

After  a  moment's  reflection,  she  added: 

"Why?" 

"Oh!  nothing; — only  I  just  heard  one  of  'em  tel- 
ling old  'Two-cent*  that  the  Government  paid  'em 
five  doUais  a  day  and  furnished  their  rifles  an' 
rations." 

"Goodness!  Well,  if  Riel  does  that  he  might 
better  take  the  money  that  it  costs  an'  buy  the  set- 
tlers' claims  for  'em,  outright.  He  might  a  good 
deal  better  never  have  begun  the  fight,  anyway. 
'Taint  no  use,  an' everybody'U  be  poorer  an'  worse 
off  when  it's  over;  an'  there'll  be  more  widows  an' 
hungry  children  in  these  valleys  than  they  is  now. 
It  would  be  a  mercy  all  'round,  if  Riel  should  be 
captured  an'  the  whole  thing  ended  before  it  goes 
any  further." 

This  suggested  a  new  line  of  thought  to  the 
young  would-be  Rebel  scout  and  he  said  no  more 
until  the  evening  meal  was  finished  and  he  picked 
up  his  hat  from  the  door  step. 


A  NEW   HOPE. 


19 


"Ma!  I'm  goin^  clown  by  the  fort.  Mcbby  I  can 
pick  up  some  odd  jobs  or  errands  to  do  for  the  sol- 
diers." 

Mrs.  Merton  offered  no  objections  to  this,  and  he 
slipped  out  of  the  door  and  scampered  down  the 
hill  to  where  the  scouts  were  quartered. 

His  Hying  feet  .ere  left  far  behind  by  the  speed 
of  his  thoughts.  If  his  mother's  view  of  the  rebellion 
was  right — and  he  had  never  before  thought  to  ques- 
tion the  correctness  of  her  moral  judgment — it  might 
be  right  to  get  some  kind  of  a  place  with  the  govern- 
ment scouts,  for  if  the  rebellion  was  bound  to  end 
in  defeat  for  the  settlers,  and  it  was  a  mercy  to 
bring  it  to  such  an  end  as  quickly  as  possible,  why 
should  it  not  be  right  for  him  to  contribute  to  help 
bring  about  such  an  end  by  joining  the  government 
forces? 

But  against  this  line  of  reasoning  came  up  the 
memory  of  his  father,  the  injustice  he  had  suffered, 
and  the  desperate  resentment  against  such  oppres- 
sion, which  had  grown  more  bitter  with  every  year 
of  his  life. 

The  boy's  heart  gave  a  quick  leap  at  the  inward 
question:  If  father  were  alive  upon  which  side  would 
he  fight? 

Rodney  could  not  evade  the  answer:  With  Riel. 

By  the  time  he  had  joined  the  men  and  boys  in 
front  of  the  post,  his  mind  was  a  confusion  of  con- 
flicting theories,  in  which  the  thought  of  finding  an 
errand  to  do  was  entirely  lost.  At  one  moment  duty 
and   honor  seemed  to   forbid  him,  in  spite  of  his 


20 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


li'ii,!' 


li'll:!: 

M 

m 
!li  I: 


II 


i|:r 


i!- 


mother's  hopeless  view  of  the  struggle,  to  do  any- 
thing that  might  identify  himself  with  those  who 
had  oppressed  his  father  and  neighbors,  or  to  hin- 
der the  possible  triumph  of  the  settlers.  Then  the 
vivid  recollection  of  his  mother's  words  and  of  her 
present  needs  would  fully  justify  to  him  the  most 
active  opposition  to  the  Rebels  of  the  Saskatchewan. 

Without  definitely  settling  the  question,  he  re- 
solved to  ask  old  '•  Two-cent  Tranquility,"  more 
about  the  scouts. 

He  found  the  shrewd  old  shoemaker  at  his  bench, 
playing  a  lively  tune  upon  the  top  of  a  scout's  boot, 
with  his  pegging  hammer,  while  his  fingers  per- 
formed that  mysterious  sleight  by  which  the  pegs 
seemed  to  flow  from  his  bench,  through  his  mouth 
into  the  awl  holes  in  the  tap. 

Although  the  men,  women  and  children  of  Ft. 
Qu'appelle,  who  did  not  habitually  speak  French  un- 
varyingly, cheapened  Toussaint  Tranquilite's  name 
into  "Two-cent  Tranquility,"  they  held  the  old  shoe- 
maker in  the  highest  esteem  and  regarded  him  as 
not  only  a  marvel  of  shrewd,  practical  common 
sense,  but  second  to  the  priest  only  in  the  wisdom 
of  books.  He  was  a  kind  of  village  premier  or 
privy  councilor  for  the  majority  of  the  inhabitants. 
His  kindly  and  companionable  nature,  and  his  keen 
sense  of  fun  extended  his  popularity  to  the  children 
of  the  hamlet  and  made  him  the  sharer  of,  perhaps, 
more  of  their  secrets  than  any  other  adult  person  in 
the  village. 

He  nodded  to  Rodney  and  jerked  his  hammer 


A   NEW   HOPE. 


21 


out  in  the  direction  of  n  leather-bottomed  stool, 
which  Rodney  took  and  waited  until  the  cobbler's 
lips  were  released  from  the  mechanical  duty  of 
holdinj^  pegs,  and  were  set  at  liberty  for  conver- 
sation. 

"Well,  my  son,  did  you  find  anythinjj^  to  do?"  in- 
quired the  shoemaker,  as  he  deftly  "stropped"  his 
thin,  pliant  knife-blade  on  the  leather  alontj  the  ed^e 
of  his  bench  and  proceeded  to  pare  the  edj^es  of 
the  tap. 

"No,  sir;  nothincj." 

"Well,  I  wish  you  was  a  journeyman  cobbler;  so 
I  do!  I'd  give  you  plenty  to  do  while  the  soldiers 
are  in  camp  here.  Just  look  at  that  pile  of  boots 
to  be  patched!  Then  I've  got  three  pairs  of  fine 
cavalry  boots  to  make." 

"But,"  he  continued  reflectively,  as  he  rubbed 
the  edges  of  the  tap  with  a  small  swab  dipped  in  a 
bottle  of  black  stain;  "it's  a  sorry  thing  all  round! 
A  sorry  thing,  my  son!  It'll  only  make  a  bad  matter 
worse,  for  of  course,  every  man  who  lives  through 
the  fighting  will  be  deprived  of  his  rights  and 
property.  No  use  for  a  man  ^^'ho  has  fought  with 
Riel  to  stay  round  in  these  parts  after  this  jig  is  over. 
He'll  stand  no  chance  for  anything." 

This  put  matters  in  a  new  light  with  the  boy,  who 
had  not  thought  but  what,  if  he  should  join  Kiel's 
forces  and  live  through  to  see  his  side  defeated,  he 
might  return  to  peace  on  the  same  ground  that  he 
had  quitted  it.  This  new  consideration  seemed  al- 
most to  determine  his  future  course,  for  he  asked. 


92 


TllK    YOUNG    NEWSI'AI'KK    SCOUT. 


Illll'i 


I'll 


"How  much  did  you  say  the  Govcrnmcrit  pays 
those  scouts?" 

"Five  dollars  a  day  and  found — all  but  their 
mount.  That's  a  lot  of  money,  son!  Wish  you 
could  get  a  job  like  that  for  awhile." 

"Do  you  know  how  old  they  have  to  be?"  asked 
Rodney  in  a  timid  voice,  as  thou<^di  he  e.xpected  to 
be  rei)roved  for  the  audacity  of  the  thought  which 
his  question  would  surely  betray  to  the  shoemaker. 

"Twenty-one,  of  course.  Hut  you  needn't  think 
for  a  minute  that  your  mother  would  let  you  join. 
She'd   starve  first." 

This  was  what  the  boy  had  expected  and  he  did 
not  have  the  coura^^e  to  press  his  inquiry  directly 
in  regard  t(»  the  possibility  of  his  securing  a  i)osition 
as  drummer-boy,  but  said: 

"Don't  you  'spose  there  is  .sv?;;/iV///V/^  that  a  boy 
could  get  to  do  for  the  scouts — something  that 
mother  might  let  me  do?" 

"Well,  mebby.  It  wouldn't  do  any  hurt  to  hang 
around  there  a  little.  You  might  pick  up  chances  to 
run  errands  now  and  then.  Those  fellows  are  mighty 
free  with  their  money.  It  comes  easy  and  goes  easy. 
Now  you  take  those  boots  down  to  Cap'n.  French  an' 
if  he  don't  give  you  a  tip,  I'll  make  it  right  with  you 
myself.    They're  paid  for." 

Rodney  took  the  boots  by  their  straps  and  went 
down  towards  the  old  fort  with  the  elation  wliich 
comes  of  settled  purpose. 

He  was  admitted  within  the  palisade  but  was 
compelled   to  wait  for   Captain    French,   who  was 


,;^lil 


A   NEW    IIOI'E. 


23 


enfja^cd  inside  the  fort.  A  j^roup  of  scouts  were 
loun^nn^  about  an  open  fire,  story-tellill{.,^  j(jkin^\ 
lauj^liin^  and  sniokin^,  as  tlioui^h  their  prospective 
danj^ers  were  mere  bu[j-a-l)oos,  and  scouting  the  best 
sport  in  the  world. 

He  listened  intently  to  what  they  were  sayiiij^ 
and  final])'  ventured  nearer  the  j^roup,  that  he  niij^dit 
miss  nothiuLj  of  their  talk. 

"Foutid  a  man  yet?  I  should  say  not!"  exclaiiuid 
a  younyf  man  who  did  not  seem  to  ha\e  exactly  a 
soldierly  air.  "An*  I've  ^ot  to  ^et  hold  of  some  sort 
of  fellow  who  knows  enouidi  about  this  valley  to 
carry  my  dispatches  without  gettini^  lost  or  cap- 
tured. Every  able-bodied  man  around  here  is  either 
with  the  rebels  or  getting  a  scout's  {)ay  from  the 
government.  I'  spose  I  could  pick  up  a  fairly  good 
man  if  the  paper  would  allow  me  to  spend  that  price; 
but  it  won't  go  over  half  that  at  the  outside.  If  the 
fighting  begins  right  away,  I'll  have  to  take  up  with 
half  a  man  if  I  can't  get  a  whole  one.  If  I  could 
pick  up  some  fellow  who  has  hunted  and  trapped 
along  this  river  till  he  knows  every  crook  and  turn 
of  it  and  every  road  and  town  in  the  valley,  he'd  be 
worth  money  to  me,  and  I'd  put  in  something  out  of 
my  own  pocket,  for  I've  just  got  a  commission  for 
some  special  correspondence  for  the  London  papers, 
an'  I'd  have  this  fellow  act  as  a  private  scout  as  well 
as  to  carry  my  dispatches  to  the  wires." 

Just  then  Captain  French  came  up  to  Rodney, 
glanced  sharply  at  the  bottoms  of  the  boots  and  with 
a  "Well,  my  lad,"  handed  out  a  quarter. 


24 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


Ill,' 


I'jif 

k 
III' 


w: 


The  delight  which  would  otherwise  have  filled 
Rodney's  mind  at  this  bit  of  good  luck  was  dimmed 
by  the  excitement  of  alternating  hopes  and  fears 
which  confronted  him,  as  he  considered  the  possi- 
bility of  securing  the  position  of  private  scout  for 
the  newspaper  man. 

He  would  have  hung  about  the  campfire  until  the 
group  broke  up,  in  the  hope  that  he  might  find  just 
the  right  opportunity  to  speak  for  the  place,  but  he 
did  not  dare  remain,  now  that  his  business  was  done. 

He  resolved  to  hasten  back  to  the  shoemaker, 
put  the  matter  before  him,  and  ask  his  aid  in  secur- 
ing the  position.  When  he  reached  the  shop  he 
found  it  closed.  "Two-cent"  was  across  the  way,  in 
front  of  the  post,  giving  the  crowd  the  benefit  of  his 
philosophy  upon  the  situation.  Rodney  knew  that 
it  was  hopeless  to  attempt  to  secure  a  private  audi- 
ence with  him  that  evening,  for  it  was  already  get- 
ting late.  There  was  nothing  more  to  do  but  to  go 
home  and  talk  it  over  with  his  mother. 

What  a  fortune  even  two  dollars  and  a  half  a  day 
would  be!  And  then  if  the  newspaper  man  should 
be  willing,  after  awhile,  to  give  something  out  of  his 
own  pocket,  that  would  be  "too  glorious  for  any- 
thing!" Then  he  called  to  mind  just  how  much  and 
how  little  he  knew  of  the  valley,  and  felt  a  tinge  of 
fear  and  disappointment  as  he  realized  that  although 
intimately  familiar  with  the  country  for  a  few  miles 
immediately  surrounding  the  fort,  the  valley  as  a 
whole  was  comparatively  unknown  to  him.  He 
was  glad  that  he  could  say  that  he  had   been  to 


A   NEW    HOPE. 


25 


Grenfell.  It  might  have  considerable  weight  with 
the  man. 

When  he  reached  home  his  mother  had  gone  to 
bed;  but  she  wakened  sufficiently  to  ask: 

"  Did  you -get  any  errands  to  do?' 

"Yes,  'm,"  he  replied,  "Captain  French  gave  me 
a  quarter  for  bringing  his  boots  from  the  shop." 

His  determination  to  talk  over  the  newspaper- 
scouting  project  with  his  mother  weakened  at  the 
sound  of  her  hopeless  voice  and  he  resolved  to  con- 
fer with  the  shoemaker  and  possibly  to  see  if  he 
could  get  the  place  before  saying  anything  to  her 
about  it. 

He  did  not  realize  how  very  tired  the  long 
tramp  from  Grenfell  and  the  excitement  of  the  even- 
ing had  made  him  until  he  kicked  his  pants  off  on 
the  floor  and  stretched  out,  at  full  length,  upon  the 
bed. 

For  some  time  his  legs  ached  so  that  he  could 
not  sleep;  but  his  mind  was  so  filled  with  the  great 
crisis  of  his  career  that  he  gradually  lost  conscious- 
ness of  his  pain  and  finally  sank  to  sleep  in  a  splen- 
did dream  of  really  going  to  war. 


It' 
111 


CHAPTER  III. 


'M 


liiii' 


n'v 


■  'hi  'I 


A   FORTUNE    OF    WAR. 

Rodney  was  awakened  early  by  the  drawling 
crow  of  a  neigbor's  rooster,  for  the  monarch  of  Mrs. 
Morton's  flock  had  long  since  been  sacrificed  to  the 
family  necessity  along  with  such  of  his  feminine 
followers  as  were  not  promj'lt  in  their  daily  contribu- 
tions of  eggs  or  engaged  in  rearing  broods  of  chicks. 

He  bounded  to  the  floor  and  was  inside  his  pants 
in  less  time  than  it  takes  the  average  bo}^  to  dress 
for  a  circus,  and  with  much  the  same  feeling  of  in- 
tense and  joyous  excitement  which  such  an  antici- 
pation usually  inspires  in  the  juvenilo  mind. 

He  ate  his  breakfast  of  corn-cakes  in  silence, 
and  even  neglected  some  of  his  chores  in  his  haste 
to  see  the  shoemaker  and  secure  his  good  offices 
with  the  newspaper  man. 

The  sight  of  the  white  canvas  tents  and  stacks 
of  glistening  arms  of  the  "regular"  troops,  about 
which  a  uniformed  line  of  pickets  were  pacing  to  and 
fro  upon  their  beats,  gave  Rodney  a  more  thrilling 
sense  of  the  actual  presence  of  war  than  even  scouts 
had  in  their  more  unpretentious  and  plebeian  dress 
had  inspired. 

abandon,    not 


leap( 


)oyi 


slackening  his  speed  until  at  the  very  door  of  the 
shoemaker's  shop. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter,  son?"  exclaimed  "Two- 


I 


A   FORTUNi:    OF    WAR. 


27 


rawling 
of  Mrs. 
d  to  the 
cminine 
ontribu- 
chicks. 
is  pants 
to  dress 
g  of  in- 
i  antici- 

silence, 
lis  haste 
I   offices 

I  stacks 
3,  about 
£^  to  and 
thrilling^ 
n  scouts 
m  dress 

on,  not 
)r  of  the 


cent,"  as  he  saw  the  boy's  ae^itation.  "Anythiii<^ 
the  matter  with  your  mother?" 

"No — I — I— I  just  came  to  talk  with  you  about 
something  that  I  had  heard  down  at  tlie  camps  last 
nii^iit,"  stammered  Rodney,  panting  and  out  of 
breath. 

"Well,  out  with  it!"  good-naturedly  commanded 
the  cobbler,  as  he  rolled  a  waxed-end  upon  his  knee. 

"There's  a  newspaper  man  down  there  with  the 
scouts  who  has  been  looking  for  some  man  who  lives 
about  here  and  knows  the  valley,  to  carry  dispatches 
and  act  as  his  'private  scout,'  as  he  called  it.  l^ut  he 
hasn't  found  anybody  yet,  for  he  says  that  the  '^len 
in  the  valley  who  are  not  with  Riel  want  to  join 
French's  scouts  and  get  their  five  dollars  a  day,  and 
his  paper  can't  pay  more'n  half  that.  Ikit  he  says 
that  he's  got  to  have  half  a  man  if  he  can't  find  a 
whole  one,  and  that  if  he  could  get  some  one  who 
had  hunted  and  trapped  up  an'  down  the  river  till  lie 
knew  the  country  like  a  book,  he'd  be  willing  to  pay 
something  extra  out  ot  his  own  pocket.  Do  you 
s'pose  there's  any  chance  for  me — if— you  helped 
me,  to  get  it?  Don't  you  think  that  I  might  learn 
how  to  do  it?"    Rodney  timidly  inquired. 

"No,  you  can't  learn!  If  he  takes  you  at  all  it'll 
be  for  what  you  already  know  an'  don't  have  to 
learn.  There  ain't  any  time  for  learning  anything 
except  on  the  run.  But  there's  one  thing  about  it; 
most  of  the  fighting  that  these  fellows  will  see  is 
going  to  be  done  right  around  these  pnrts.  I  don't 
see  why  you  wouldn't  answer  his  purpose  as  well  as 


IIIM- 
I'- 
ll 

P! 


ini!-! 


M0 


liiliHy 


1111;'' 


11 


P 
1    li 


M  ii  ,' 

m 


li 


in: 


28 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


somebody  who  would  set  heavier  on  a  horse,  eat 
more  an'  be  enough  sight  less  gritty,  honest  an' 
willing  than  you." 

Praise  was  something  that  Rodney  Merton  had 
known  but  little  of;  and  these  words  from  so  impor- 
tant a  personage  as  "Two-cent  Tranquility"  made 
the  boys  cheeks  burn.  This  commendation  gave 
him  courage  to  ask: 

"Would  you  be  willing  to  go  down,  this  morning, 
if  it  wouldn't  be  too  much  trouble,  and  see  him 
about  it." 

"  'Course,  I'll  go!"  the  cobbler  almost  snapped, 
as  though  the  request  contained  an  implied  insult. 
"Didn't  your  father  an'  I  summer  and  winter  together 
for  years  when  this  country  was  new;  an'  didn't  we 
always  share  up  on  anything  an'  everything  that  we 
had  when  the  other  was  short?" 

As  soon  as  he  finished  tipping  the  waxed-end 
with  a  bristle,  he  hung  it  over  a  nail,  took  off  his 
leather  apron  and  said: 

"Well,  come  on." 

They  walked  on  towards  the  fort  in  silence,  Rod- 
ney being  too  much  elated  to  trust  himself  to  talk, 
until  they  approached  the  entrance  of  the  palisade, 
when  he  ventured  to  ask: 

"Will  you  do — do  the  talking,  Mr.  Tranquilite?" 

"Yes,"  laughed  the  shoemaker.  "I  always  do 
that — too  much  of  it,  I'm  afraid." 

"Can  we  see  the  newspaper  man,  who  wants  to 
engage  a  private  scout?"  boldly  demanded  "Two- 
cent"  of  the  guard. 


■1 


s 


4 


w 


Hii 


A   FORTUNE   OF   WAR. 


29 


"That's  him,  leaning  against  the  door  jam,"  re- 
pHed  tlic  guard,  pointing  to  a  slightly-built,  but 
graceful  young  man,  who  appeared  to  be  about  thirty 
years  of  age.  There  was  a  certain  fineness  in  the 
whole  cast  of  his  face,  and  especially  in  his  large 
brown  eyes,  which  was  in  rather  striking  contrast 
with  the  broader  and  less  expressive  faces  of  the 
scouts  who  came  and  went  about  him. 

This  expression  of  refinement  gave  the  anxious, 
shrinking  boy  an  added  hope  that  his  application 
would  at  least  be  given  a  kindly  hearing. 

"Good  morning,  sir,"  said  the  shoemaker,  advanc- 
ing toward  the  young  correspondent,  who  returned 
the  cobbler's  salutation  with  prompt  and  easy  cour- 
tesy, and  the  inquiry: 

"And  I  may  call  you — ah — ?" 

"Tranquilite  —  Toussaint  TranquMite  —  and  this 
young  man  is  Rodney  Merton.  We  heard  that  you 
wanted  to  engage  some  one  who  is  familiar  with  the 
country  about  here." 

"Quite  right,"  nervously  interrupted  the  news- 
paper man.  "My  name  is  Gilroy — of  the  Mojitrcal 
Post.  I  presume  it  is  your  father  who  wishes  to  apply 
for  the  position?"  he  continued,  glancing  keenly 
into  Rodney's  face. 

"No,  sir.     I  thought  that — that — perhaps — " 

The  shoemaker  anticipated  the  apologetic  ex- 
planation which  Rodney  was  about  to  offer,  and  cut 
it  short  with  the  interruption: 

"Not  at  all,  sir!  His  father  is  dead,  and  he  is  now 
the  head  of  the  family,  which  he  has  mainly  sup- 


30 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


ii! 


ported  by  trapping,  during  the  winter.  If  you  don't 
mind  I'd  like  a  word  with  you  in  private,  an'  then 
I'll  go  back  to  the  shop  an'  leave  you  to  talk  it  over 
with  him." 

"Certainly,  Certainly,"  politely  responded  the 
stranger,  as  they  turned  and  walked  away  a  few  rods 
from  Rodney,  who  stood  in  nervous  embarrassment, 
awaiting  the  most  important  decision  that  he  had  yet 
been  called  to  face. 

When  the  two  men  finished  their  private  confer- 
ence, in  which  the  shoemaker  praised  the  lad's 
courage,  intelligence  and  honesty,  they  came  back 
to  where  Rodney  stood  poking  a  gravel  stone  with 
the  big  toe  of  his  bare  foot. 

A  glance  at  their  faces  told  Rodney  that  a  prob- 
able decision  had  been  reached,  but  he  could  hardly 
determine  whether  it  was  favorable  or  unfavorable. 

"Oh,  one  thing  more!"  exclaimed  Gilroy,  as  Rod- 
ney's sponsor  was  about  to  take  his  leave.  "What 
about  price?  How  much  do  you  think  our  young 
friend  should  have?  I  can  pay  a  fair  price,  but,  of 
course,  there's  nothing  fancy  in  it." 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  reflected  Tranquilite.  "Un- 
der the  circumstances  I  should  say  that  the  lad 
ought  to  be  worth  a  good  three  dollars  a  day  to  you, 
if  he  does  as  well  as  a  man." 

"Well,  perhaps,"  was  the  correspondent's  equiv- 
ocal answer,  as  he  nodded  good-bye  to  the  man  and 
turned  his  keen  eyes  upon  the  boy.  For  several 
moments  he  said  nothing,  but  stood  stroking  his 
moustache  in  deliberation. 


4 

i 

:>u  don't 

4 

in' then 

'  *M 

:  it  over 

1 

dcd  the 

cw  rods 

issmcnt, 

•1 

had  yet 

confcr- 

^H 

ic    lad's 

ne  back 

%\ 

)nc  with 

■  M 

t  a  prob- 

■■[i 

d  hardly 
/orablc. 

-f 

as  Rod- 

^J 

"What 

ir  young 
2,  but,  of 

■i\^ 

c.     "Un- 

'm 

thc   lad 

y  to  you, 

' 

:'s  cquiv- 

,: 

man  and 

" 

r  several 

■V 

king  his 

.:-:^ 

M 

A   FORTUNE   OF   WAR. 


31 


"And  so  you  think  that  you  want  a  little  of  the 
fortunes  of  war,  do  you?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"You  are  not  forgetting  that  you  will  be  exposed 
to  practically  the  same  dangers  that  these  govern- 
ment scouts  are,  and  that  they  are  sent  into  the  most 
exposed  positions  doing  flanking  and  out  post  duty 
in  order  to  lessen  the  danger  to  the  regular  sol- 
diers?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Well,  then,  if  you've  made  up  your  mind  to  go 
into  the  thickest  of  it,  if  necessary,  and  take  every- 
thing as  it  comes  along  with  the  chance  of  never 
returning — I'll  take  you,  and  pay  what  your  friend 
suggested." 

If  Rodney  had  yielded  to  its  natural  impulse  he 
would  have  jumped  into  the  air  and  "yelled."  But 
he  controlled  his  emotions  and  simply  answered: 

"Yes,  sir.    When  shall  I  come?" 

"To-morrow;  for  there's  no  telling  how  soon  we 
may  be  ordered  out  of  here.  By  the  way,  have  you 
a  pony?" 

"No,  sir." 

"  Nor  any  money  to  get  one  with?" 

"  No,  sir,"  Rodney  answered  reluctantly  as  though 
he  were  a  trifle  ashamed  to  make  the  confession. 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  have  to  scare  up  some  kind  of  a 
mount  for  you.  Suppose  you  come  around  this  after- 
noon and  see  what  luck  I  have  in  finding  something 
that  you  can  ride." 

"  V/ithout  waiting  for  a  reply  Gilroy  turned  and 


32 


THE    YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


^   II 


iii:' 

ifV 


entered  the  quarters,  while  Rodney  bounded  out  of 
the  stockade  and  toward  the  cobbler's  shop  to  carry 
the  news  of  his  wonderful  fortune. 

The  kindly  old  man  shared  in  the  boy's  joy, 
while  claiming  the  credit  of  having  been  the  princi- 
pal means  in  securing  it. 

"If  this  trouble  will  only  last  long  enough,  you'll 
be  able  to  buy  out  the  whole  town,"  he  laughingly 
remarked. 

As  Rodney  went  out  of  the  door,  wondering  how 
his  mother  would  receive  the  news  which  he  must 
break  to  her,  Tranquilite  called  after  him: 

"Son,  if  your  mother  don't  take  to  the  plan,  just 
you  tell  her  to  come  and  talk  with  me." 

This  was  a  great  relief  to  Rodney  who  began  to 
fear  that  the  most  difficult  obstacle  was  yet  to  be  en- 
countered in  securing  her  consent  to  the  undertak- 
ing. He  felt  sure,  however,  that,  if  it  came  to  the 
worst,  the  shrewd  old  cobbler,  with  his  reputation 
for  good  sense,  would  somehow  convince  his  mother 
that  it  was  best  to  let  him  go. 


i!!  lilt  , 


CHAPTER  IV. 


PROUD    PREPARATIONS. 


AS  Rodney  approached  their  cabin  and  saw  his 
mother  bending  over  her  wash  tub,  "doing  out" 
some  clothes  for  the  officers,  his  heart  gave  a  leap 
of  pride  and  joy  at  the  thought  that  very  soon  he 
would  be  able  to  relieve  her  from  the  necessity  of 
such  hard  work. 

"Ma — I've — I've  got  some  news,"  Rodney  an- 
nounced, with  many  inward  misgiving  as  to  how  she 
would  receive  it. 

"  Well,"  replied  Mrs.  Merton,  stopping  her  rub- 
bing long  enough  to  scrape  the  perspiration  from  her 
forehead  with  her  dripping  forefinger.  "There's  no 
lack  of  news  these  days — goodness  knows — such  as 
it  is.  But  if  you've  got  some  good  news  I'd  be 
thankful  to  hear  that." 

Fvodney  had  become  accustomed  to  the  hopeless- 
ness which  long  years  of  unavailing  struggle  and 
sorrow  had  fastened  upon  his  mother  until  it  had 
become  inbred  in  her  every  tone  and  word.  But  her 
dejection  this  morning  seemed  greater  than  usual 
and  had  a  touch  of  desperation  in  it  which  mater- 
ially raised  his  hope  that  she  would  accept  any  alter- 
native that  promised  relief  from  the  grind  and  press- 
ure of  their  poverty. 

83 


34 


THE   YOUNCl    NF.WSrAPF.R    SCOUT. 


"I've  liad  ati  offer  of  three  dollars  a  day." 

"Three  dollars  a  day!"  she  rei)eated  in  astonish-* 
ment,  her  face  flushed  with  j;r:ater  animation  than 
he    had    seen    it    exi)ress    in   years.     Then   a  quick 
shadow  passed  over  it  as  she  iiuiuired,  "  'Taint  to 
join  the  scouts,  is  it,  Rodney?" 

"No — not  exactly.  It's  to  carry  messaj^fcs  an' 
wait  on  a  news[)aper  man,  who  is  ijoincj  alonj^  with 
the  scouts,  to  write  up  the  Rebellion  for  the  Toronto 
and  London  papers.  Mr.  Trani[uilite  ^ot  the  chance 
for  mc  an'  I'm  to  get  three  dollars  a  day  and  all 
expenses — horse  an'  cverythincj,  as  long  's  the  war 
lasts.  Mr.  Gilroy — the  newspaper  man — wants  me 
to  come  back  an'  help  him  pick  out  a  mount  for  me 
this  forenoon."  He  felt  a  strong  pride  in  using  the 
word  "mount"  instead  of  horse;  it  sounded  so 
"military." 

"Well,  there  aint  any  time  to  lose  then.  It's 
most  ten  now.     You  better  hurry." 

With  this  she  again  plunged  the  shirt,  which  she 
had  been  rubbing,  into  the  suds  and  dismissed  the 
matter  and  him  as  though  the  occasion  were  as 
commonplace  as  an  errand  to  the  post  for  family 
supplies. 

Rodney  had  expected  opposition  and  tears  on 
the  part  of  his  mother  and  this  kind  of  a  reception 
was  so  different  from  what  he  had  anticipated  that 
he  was  nonplussed,  not  to  say  almost  disappointed. 
Could  it  be  that  his  mother  loved  him  less  than  he 
had  thought  and  she  could  let  him  go  to  war  with 
scarcely  a  moment's  hesitation  or  regret.  This  latter 


f 


ijlji  I 


PROUD    PKKPAKATIUNS. 


35 


thoui^ht,  it  must  l)c  confcssod,  toiichctl  his  pride  as 
well  as  liis  aflccticjii.  It  hurt  him  to  think  that  lie 
should  be  t/(tii(///v  i\vini^  fo  icar  without  even  his  own 
mother  reali/iii^^  the  di<^niity  and  the  danj.jer  (jf  the 
occasion,  which,  it  seemed  to  him,  should  impress 
everybody. 

y\s  he  turned  to  ^^o  back  to  the  fort  his  mother 
called  after  him: 

"Rodney,  now  look  sharp  that  they  don't  put  off 
any  vicious  brute  onto  y'.      Git  a  L,^entle  one." 

lie  found  Gilroy  in  front  of  the  fort  looking  at  a 
collection  of  horses.  They  were  not  as  slightly  as 
could  be  wished;  but  Rodney  realized  that  there 
might  be  times  when  this  would  be  the  least  neces- 
sary qualification.  The  resemblance  of  one  of  them, 
which  had  a  ponderous  white  Roman  nose,  tattered 
ears  and  Albino  eyes,  to  a  picture  of  a  cow-boy's 
steed  which  he  had  seen  in  the  Youth's  Compcinion,  at 
once  determined  his  choice.  The  story  which  ac- 
companied the  illustration  had  described  the  cow- 
boy's bronco  as  a  shining  example  of  courage  and 
endurance,  and  had  detailed  the  brute's  heroic  con- 
duct in  an  exciting  Indian  fight  on  the  plains.  This 
resemblance  determined  him  to  select  the  pink- 
eyed,  Roman-nosed  shaganappy  if  the  choice  was 
left  to  him, 

"Well,  which  one  takes  your  eye?"  inquired 
Gilroy. 

•*  I  think  the  spotted  one  with  the  big  nose,'* 
Rodney  replied. 

"The  boy's   head  's   level,"   spoke   up   Captain 


36 


Tlii;    VoUNd   NEWSI'AIT.K     SLUUT. 


I''rcncli  who  liad  (luictly  joined  tlic  spectators  to  the 
nej^^otiatioiis.  "1  know  that  liorse.  He  used  to  be 
ill  the  mounted  police.  I  le'll  thrive  where  a  com- 
mon horse  will  starve.  (),  he's  a  stayer.  Knows 
more  than  lots  of  police  I've  seen,  and  is  just  as 
handsome,  too!" 

This  brought  a  liearty  lau^di  from  the  scouts  and 
made  Rodney  feel  that  he  was  getting  on  well  for  a 
bei^dnning. 

"How  old  is  he?"  inquired  Gilroy  of  the  Captain. 

"Oh,  he's  of  age,  anyway.  1  never  counted  his 
teeth.  Always  rather  count  his  ribs — so  much  hand- 
dier,  y'  see." 

"All  right,  I'll  take  him,  if  you  think  he's  safe 
for  the  boy,"  said  Gilroy,  as  he  handed  the  halter  to 
Rodney,  whose  heart  swelled  with  conscious  pride 
as  he  led  his  horse  past  a  group  of  the  village  boys, 
who  now  seemed  strangely  young  and  insignificant 
to  him. 

Rodney  spent  the  remaina  of  the  day  in  groom- 
ing his  pie  bald  treasure  and  in  packing  the  meager 
bundle  that  was  to  constitute  his  outfit. 

It  gave  him  an  honest,  manly  pride  to  have 
Leveque  call  him  into  the  post  and  say: 

"Now  if  there's  anything  you  want  to  fit  out 
with,  or  anything  your  ma  wants  while  you're  gone, 
you  can  have  the  credit  for  it." 

Rodney  would  have  liked  to  refuse  this  offer  of 
credit  from  the  man  who  had  denied  it  to  him  and 
to  his  mother  when  he  was  out  of  employment,  but 
he  knew  that  his  mother  stood  in  immediate  need 


PROUU     rkKl'AKATIONS. 


37 


of  many  thin{.^s  and  that  lie  would  be  fjreatly  ashanieil 
to  report  lor  duty  without  shoes  and  stockinj^s  and 
dressed  in  his  present  "best  clothes"  which  were 
little  better  than  a  faithful  and  variegated  collection 
of  patches.  Consecpiently  he  was  oblij^^ed  to  swallow 
his  pride  and  accept  the  offer  of  credit.  When 
clothed  in  a  suit,  stockings  and  boots  he  felt  that  he 
had  left  boyish  things  behind  him  and  had  entered 
upon  the  serious  affairs  of  life. 

He  did  not  ^o  to  bed  until  late  that  ni^dit,  and 
when  he  did  it  was  in  a  different  fashion  than  usual. 
Instead  of  kicking  a  pair  of  tattered  trousers  from 
legs,  that  had  been  bare-footed  all  day,  he  took  off 
his  boots  and  stockings  with  manly  deliberation  and 
hung  his  long  trousers  by  the  strap  in  the  back  with 
a  dignity  becoming  one  who  had  re-established  the 
family  credit,  and  who  was  going  to  war  as  a  private 
newspaper  scout  on  a  salary  of  three  dollars  a  day, 
and  a  horse  that  he  might  call  his  own. 

He  looked  carefully  about  his  loft  and  tried  to 
realize  that  it  was  probably  the  last  night  that  he 
would  sleep  in  it  for  many  months — perhaps  forever. 

When  he  went  to  sleep,  it  was  in  wondering 
whether  people  would  not  sometime  visit  that  loft  to 
see  where  General  Rodney  Merton,  the  famous  scout 
of  the  North  West,  had  slept  when  a  boy. 

His  mother  called  him  bright  and  early  the  next 
morning,  and  when  he  reached  the  stable  to  take 
care  of  Gilroy's  horse  and  his  own,  he  found  that  he 
was  in  advance  of  the  earliest  scout. 

After  Gilroy  had  lighted  his  after-breakfast  pipe, 


38 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


I'iili'iii.illli 


|!!i(i!l'!'i'"!ii 


he  called  Rodney,  and  motioned  him  to  a  seat  upon 
the  grass. 

"Be  back  in  a  minute,"  the  newspaper  man  ex- 
plained as  he  disapeared  into  the  quarters. 

When  he  again  appeared,  he  carried  a  repeating 
rifle  and  a  belt  in  which  were  hung  a  pair  of  new 
six-shooters,  a  knife  and  a  field  glass. 

"  Now  lad,"  said  Gilroy  as  he  handed  them  to  the 
astonished  boy,  "You  want  to  learn  how  to  use  these 
trinkets,  and  how  to  take  care  of  them.  And  what's 
more  you've  got  to  learn  all  the  discipline  that  a 
regular  scout  is  under — just  what  every  command 
means,  and  how  to  obey  it.  I've  arranged  with  Lieu- 
tenant Johns  to  teach  you  all  he  can  until  we  get 
marching  orders.  Theu  you'll  have  to  fall  in  line 
with  the  rest  and  make  the  best  you  can  of  it.  Here 
he  comes  now,  ready  for  business.  Pick  it  up  as  fast 
as  you  can,  for  you  can't  tell  what  bit  of  information 
is  going  to  let  you  out  of  some  tight  scrape  when  we 
get  into  the  fighting.  Lieutenant,  this  is  Private 
Scout  Rodney  Merton — ready  to  be  taught  how  to 
steal  pigs  and  chickens  and  strip  dead  Injuns  of 
their  finery  when  the  Captain's  back  is  turned." 

With  this  introduction,  Gilroy  went  inside  to 
write  to  his  paper  the  important  news  that  had  not 
happened,  and  left  Rodney  to  his  first  lesson  in  the 
art  of  war. 

After  the  noon  mess,  Rodney  and  his  teacher 
again  resumed  their  drill. 

Suddenly  a  clear  blast  of  a  bugle,  from  the  en- 
campment of  the  regulars  broke  the  quiet  of  the 


PROUD    PREPARATIONS. 


39 


little  hamlet.  It  sent  the  chilling  thrills  through 
and  through  Rodney,  for  he  knew  that  it  was  the 
call  to  mount  and  march. 


!!!lp":!!! 


"■% 


CHAPTER  V. 


A  BRUSH  WITH  THE  HALF  BREEDS. 


iiiiii'ii;!!! 


^|liii;!l?i !! 


■i||i|!IMl)l|i 


!ll&^*'!l 


ALTHOUGH  Gilroy  had  told  Rodney  that  they 
might  be  ordered  to  march  at  any  time,  the 
sudden  summons  to  mount  was  a  great  surprise  to 
him,  and  it  gave  him  a  shock  when  he  realized  that 
he  would  have  no  opportunity  to  say  good-bye  to 
his  mother;  for  by  the  time  he  had  saddled  Gilroy's 
horse  and  executed  the  other  orders  that  his  em- 
ployer ]iad  given  him,  the  entire  company  of  scouts 
was  ready  to  move  forvva^'d. 

As  the  scouts  were  to  precede  the  regular  troops, 
the  order  to  march  was  promptly  i^iven,  and  they 
set  off  at  an  easy  canter. 

Rodney  strained  hi.5  eyes  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
his  mother  and  wave  her  a  farewell  if  she  should 
chance  to  be  observing  the  movement  of  the  scouts. 
Just  as  he  was  passing  nearly  out  of  sight  of  the  old 
home  cabin,  he  saw  her  come  out  of  the  door  and  go 
to  hanging  out  doches,  with  her  back  turned 
toward  him;  and  he  could  scarcely  choke  back  the 
tears  at  the  thought  of  leaving  her  without  even  a 
farewell,  when  perhaps  he  might  never  see  her 
again. 

However,  there  was  too  much  keen  excitement 
close  about  him  to  permit  these  gloomy  reflections 
to  long  occupy  his  mind. 

40 


,m 


A  BRUSH  WITH  THE  HALF  BREEDS. 


41 


t 


at  they 
me,  the 
)rise  to 
sd  that 
-bye  to 
jih'oy's 
lis  em- 
scouts 

troops, 
id  they 

apse  of 
should 
scouts. 

the  old 
and  go 
turned 

ick  the 
even  a 

;ee    her 

itement 
lections 


% 


The  sight  of  thirty  mounted  horsemen  is  alone 
sufficient  to  chase  all  other  thoughts  out  ol;  a  healthy 
boy's  mind;  but  when  those  horsemen  are  galloping 
out  to  war,  and  the  boy  mounted  on  his  own  horse 
with  his  rifle  slung  over  his  back  and  his  revolvers 
in  his  belt,  is  one  of  their  number,  any  feelings  save 
swelling  pride  and  a  tremendous  excitement  are 
plainly  out  of  the  question. 

Rodney  was  riding  well  at  the  front,  between 
Lieutenant  Johns  and  Gilroy,  and  as  he  turned  in 
his  saddle  and  glanced  back  over  the  galloping 
company  of  horses,  at  the  regiments  of  "regulars," 
with  their  artillery,  splendid  uniforms  and  perfect 
movements,  as  they  were  just  leaving  the  site  ut 
their  recent  camp,  he  could  scarcely  suppress  a 
boyish  yell  of  admiration. 

'*  Oh,  it's  glorious!  "  was  his  mental   exclamation 
at  the  stirring  sight. 

There  was  nothing  to  break  the  train  of  his  ex- 
ultant reflections  until  they  had  been  several  hours 
on  the  march,  and  the  chafing  of  the  saddle  began 
to  make  itself  felt  on  the  tender  surface  of  his  legs. 
This  irritation  increased  with  each  mile  of 
travel,  until  Rodney  was  finally  compelled  to  curl 
one  leg  up  over  the  horn  of  his  saddle,  in  feminine 
fashion,  in  order  to  secure  a  change  of  position 
which  would  temporarily  relieve  the  blistered  parts. 
This  left  the  unoccupied  stirrup  dangling  loosely. 

Suddenly  a  loud  grunt  announced  the  presence 
of  a  pig  in  the  stunted  brush  by  the  roadside;  and 
before   Rodney  could   change  his  position  a  small 


42 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


razor-backed  hog  dashed  almost  in  under  the  feet  of 
the  foremost  horses.  Instantly  Rodney's  horse 
wheeled,  kicked,  plunged  and  broke  ranks  in  a  way 
that  not  only  promised  to  unseat  its  rider  in  the 
most  unceremonious  fashion,  but  also  threatened  to 
interrupt  his  soldierly  career  before  it  had  fairly 
begun. 

Finding  that  its  violent  buck-jumping  failed  to 
dislodge  it.  rider,  the  pink-eyed  Shaganappy 
resolved  to  try  a  new  maneuver,  and  "lit  out"  down 
the  road,  in  advance  of  the  scouts,  at  a  steeple-chase 
pace. 

"  Pity  he  ain't  in  the  Derby — he'd  take  the 
stakes  sure!  "  exclaimed  Gilroy,  as  he  watched  Rod- 
ney's wild  ride  with  a  greater  anxiety  than  his 
words  indicated. 

The  horse  and  its  clinging  rider  disappeared  over 
the  top  of  a  wooded  hill,  the  empty  stirrups  thresh- 
ing the  animal's  sides  at  every  plunge. 

But  Rodney  clung  to  his  seat  with  the  grip  of 
desperation.  At  last,  as  the  brute's  pace  began  to 
slacken  from  fatigue,  or  the  conviction  that  it  had 
mistaken  the  staying  qualities  of  its  rider,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  again  getting  fairly  astride  of  the  saddle. 

The  runaway  then  seemed  to  realize  that  it  was 
ouce  more  under  bridal  control  and  prepared  to 
yield  the  contest  and  settle  down  into  obedience; 
but  Rodney  was  not  disposed  to  accept  the  surrender 
on  these  terms.  Turning  "Pink-eye,"  as,  by  common 
impulse,  the  horse  had  come  to  be  named,  about, 
Rodney  regained  his  flapping  stirrups  and  gave  the 


I 


A    BRUSH    WITH    THF.    HALF    BREEDS. 


43 


animal  as  smart  a  ride  back  to  the  advancing  com- 
pany as  the  runaway  had  made  in. its  first  dash. 

He  was  greeted  with  a  round  of  cheers  as  he 
again  fell  into  rank. 

"You  won't  have  any  more  trouble  with  that 
old  Shaganappy.  He  knows  you  are  master  now;" 
remarked  Captain  French,  in  a  way  that  did  Rodney 
as  much  good  as  the  cheers  of  the  others  had  done 
him. 

By  the  time  that  the  company  reached  Clark's 
Crossing  Rodney  had  come  to  feel  quite  at  home  in 
the  saddle,  and  the  ride  began  to  seem  a  trifle  weari- 
some and  monotonous.  He  would  not  admit  to 
himself  that  he  wanted  any  fighting  to  occur;  but 
he  cherished  a  secret  longing  that  something  excit- 
ing and  warlike  would  happen. 

He  had  his  wish. 

Gilroy  touched  his  elbow  and  said: 

"  You  see  those  horsemen  along  the  crest  of  the 
hills,  there?    Well;  they're  Reil's  scouts." 

Rodney  raised  his  glass  and  watched  them,  with 
the  thrilling  sense  that  it  was  the  first  sight  of  the 
enemy. 

Just  then  the  captain  was  heard  detailing  Lieu- 
tenant Johns  to  take  a  squad  of  twenty  men  and 
make  an  effort  to  capture  the  outriding  Half  Breed 
scouts. 

Rodney  wondered  if  Gilroy  would  order  him  to 
go  with  the  skirmishers;  but  Gilroy  seemed  to  entire- 
ly forget,  in  the  prospect  of  the  excitement,  the  pres- 
ence of  his  private  scout  and  dashed  away  with  the 


44 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


Ijll 


,  >.|, 


detachment  without  a  word  or  a  glance  to  indicate 
what  he  expected  of  his  assistant. 

Only  a  moment  did  Rodney  hesitate;  then  he 
followed  hard  on  in  the  tracks  of  his  superior,  vn 
secret  fear  that  the  latter  would  discover  his  presence 
and  send  him  back  to  the  main  company. 

After  a  sharp  ride  of  a  couple  of  miles  they  halted 
under  cover  of  small  woods  for  a  momentary  con- 
sultation, during  which  Rodney  was  careful  to  keep 
as  many  horsemen  and  bushes  between  himself  and 
Gilroy  as  possible. 

It  was  decided  to  divide  the  men  into  two  equal 
detachments,  one  of  them  to  ride  openly  upon  the 
half-breeds,  the  other  to  take  a  circuit  and  come  up 
in  form  to  surround  them  when  retreating  or  under 
fire. 

Gilroy  waited  with  the  party  which  was  to  lead 
the  attack. 

When  a  sufficient  time  had  been  allowed  for  the 
others  to  make  their  longer  circuitous  advance,  the 
remaining  squad  pressed  on  to  the  edge  of  the 
woods,  from  which  the  Half  Breeds  could  be  seen 
only  a  few  hundred  rods  distant,  sitting  quietly  on 
their  ponies  and  calmly  watching  the  other  body  of 
the  government  scouts  further  down  in  the  valley. 

They  had  not  detected  the  approach  of  Lieutenant 
Johns'  detachment. 

"  Now  tor  a  sharp  dash  at  them.  If  they  halt  to 
fire,  do  the  same,  and  give  it  to  them  until  the  other 
boys  come  up  behind  and  cut  off  their  retreat,"  was 
the  command. 


m 


A  BRUSH  WITH  THE  HALF  BREEDS. 


45 


was 


Then  the  signal  to  charge  was  given  and 
the  twelve  government  scouts,  including  the  news- 
paper force,  leaped  their  horses  out  of  the  conceal- 
ment into  full  sight  of  the  astonished  squad  of 
Rebels,  which  Rodney  hurriedly  estimated  to  he 
about  eight  in  number.  The  latter  did  not  even 
pause  to  fire  an  opening  r.?1'itr  but  wheeled  and 
galloped  toward  the  cover  of  the  next  stretch 
of  woods  as  fast  as  their  ponies  could  carry 
them. 

"  Put  'em  through!"  shouted  the  lieutenant,  and 
the  scouts  urged  on  their  horses  until  they  rode  breast 
to  breast,  with  only  Rodney,  who  contrived  to  keep 
close  behind  Gilroy,  in  the  rear. 

The  race  was  more  spirited  and  exciting  than 
even  Rodney's  dreams  of  a  charge  had  pictured. 
He  had  never  ridden  so  fast  in  his  life  before,  and  it 
seemed  to  him  that  they  must  be  going  almost  as 
fast  as  a  railway  train. 

As  he  had  never  been  aboard  one  of  the  latter 
while  it  was  in  motion,  and  had  formed  his  estimate 
of  their  speed  mamly  in  watching  them  across  the 
prairie  at  a  considerable  distance,  it  was  not  wholly 
strange  that  the  long,  sharp,  straining  leaps  of  the 
animal  under  him  should  seem  almost  as  fleet  as  the 
trains. 

As  the  horses'  speed  increased,  he  began  to 
wonder  what  would  happen  if  they  were  obliged  to 
stop  short.     Before  he  could  reach  any  conclusion 

the  scouts 


problei 


upon  tl 

speed  and  fire. 


^ean 


^ 


46 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


"Crack! — crack!  -crack!"  went  one  repeater  after 
another. 

Rodney  watched  the  fleeing  Half  Breed?,  expect- 
ing to  see  f^everal  of  therfi  reel  from  their  saddles; 
but  they  did  not. 

After  some  fifty  rods  of  even  more  desperate 
riding,  the  scouts  evidently  considered  themselves 
within  rifle  range,  for  they  drew  their  horses  to  a 
standstill,  and  began  firing,  almost  together,  with  a 
deliberate  aim  that  sent  a  couple  of  the  Half  Breeds' 
ponies  stumbling  upon  their  knees.  But  they  regained 
their  feet  and  plunged  on  more  furiously  than 
before. 

Rodney  became  so  absorbed  for  the  moment  in 
watching  the  effect  of  the  shooting  that  he  lost 
thought  of  everything  beside.  When  he  returned 
to  consciousness  of  his  surroundings,  he  saw  Gilroy's 
horse  breaking  toward  the  enemy  at  terrific  speed, 
leaving  the  scouts  rapidly  behind. 

A  moment's  observation  convinced  him  that 
Gilroy's  horse,  which  ae  knew  had  never  been  under 
fire  before,,  had  become  unmanageable. 

Would  it  carry  the  helpless  correspondent  so 
close  to  the  half-breeds  that  they  would  pause  long 
enough  to  shoot  him  down  at  short  range?  Then 
the  thought  flashed  through  Rodney's  mind  that 
they  would  be  less  likely  to  attempt  such  a  move  if 
Gilroy  were  not  alone,  and  that  he  must  catch  up 
with  his  employer  and  lessen  the  danger  by  sharing 
it  with  him.  Then  there  might  also  be  a  chance 
that,  by  riding  close  alongside  Gilroy   and  seizing 


1 


I 

■k 


A    15KUSI1    WITH    TIIK    HALF    nKKEDS, 


47 


er  after 

ixpect- 
addles; 

operate 
iselves 
;s  to  a 
with  a 
Breeds' 
igained 
than 


the  l)it  of  the  hiUcr's  liorsc,  he  ct)ukl  briiiij  the  ter- 
rified animal  to  a  halt  in  time  to  save  its  rider. 

The  f^reat  question  now  in  the  boy's  mind  was 
not  how  he  should  stoj)  his  own  horse,  but  whether 
he  could  overtake  Gilroy  before  they  were  fairly 
upon  the  heels  of  the  Half  l)reeds.  He  jabbed  his 
spurs  fiercely  into  the  sides  of  Pink-eye  and  the 
latter  responded  with  a  sudden  ex[)enditurc  of 
reserve  speed  which  well  ni[(h  took  Rodney's  breath. 

In  less  time  than  he  had  dared  lo  hope  the  Roman 
nose  of  Pink-eye  was  alongside  the  flank  of 
Gilvoy's  horse  and  in  a  second  more  they  were 
neck  and  neck. 

Rodney  was  about  to  attempt  his  desperate  plan 
of  seizing  Gilroy's  bridle,  when  one  of  the  Malf 
Breeds  wheeled  his  pony  about,  raised  his  Winches- 
ter and  sent  back  a  bullet  which  dropped  Gilroy's 
horse  upon  its  knees. 

Without  a  word  from  him  Rodney's  horse  came 
to  a  stand  still  within  a  few  rods  from  where  Gilroy 
had  been  thrown.  How  the  horse  accomplished 
this  feat  without  shooting  him  from  the  saddle  was 
more  than  Rodney  could  understand.  Only  a  horse 
with  a  long  training  in  actual  cavalry  service  could 
have  done  it,  he  was  sure. 

But  there  was  no  time  for  him  to  speculate  upon 
it  then;  there  was  too  much  pressing  business  close 
at  hand. 

The  same  scout  who  had  dropped  Gilroy's  horse 
was  "pumping"  the  empty  cartridge-shell  out  of  his 
Winchester,  ready  for  a  second  shot. 


48 


THK    YOUNG    NKVVSPAPER    SCOUT. 


Scarcely  knowing  how  he  did  it,  Rodney  leaped 
from  his  horse  leveled  his  rifle  across  his  '-addle  and 
fired.  The  rifle  which  had  a  careful  brad  upon 
Gilroy  dropped  from  the  Half  Breed's  hands  and 
discharged  harmlessly  as  it  fell. 

The  wounded  man  shouted  to  his  comrade,  who 
were  some  distance  in  advance  of  him  and  they 
faced  about  and  opened  up  a  lively  fire  upon  Gilroy 
and  Rodney.  The  former  had  succeeded  in  getting 
back  to  his  horse  without  being  struck  by  any  of  the 
ballswhich  whistled  about  him  in  a  rapid  succession 
as  the  Half  Breeds  could  pump  their  Winchesters. 
Finding  that  his  horse  was  severely  wounded, 
Gilroy  quickly  drew  his  revolver  and  put  the  animal 
out  of  its  suffering  by  sending  a  bullet  through  its 
head.  He  then  threw  himself  at  full  length  on  the 
ground  and  using  the  dead  body  of  the  horse  as  a 
barricade  and  "rest"  for  his  rifle,  proceeded  to 
return  the  fire  of  Rebels  with  an  accuracy  which  was 
impossible  to  them,  mounted  upon  their  panting  and 
exhausted  ponies.  Rodney  was  also  intrenched 
behind  hisShaganappy,  which  stood  as  motionless  as 
though  being  carried  or  caressed. 

If  the  range  between  the  dueling  parties  had  not 
been  so  great  probably  both  would  have  suffered 
severely,  but  the  singing  of  the  balls  close  about 
them,  and  the  loss  of  Gilroy's  horse  were  the  nearest 
approaches  to  fatalities  which  the  newspaper  scouts 
sustained.  Nor  could  they  see  that  their  shots, 
aside  from  the  fortunate  hit  made  by  Rodney's  first 
ball,  had  any  effect  upon  the  Half  Breeds.  However, 


A    BRUSH    WITH    THK    •AI.F    BRKEDS. 


49 


the  wound  that  Rodney  tlicn  inflicted  upon  the  dar- 
ing spy  no  doubt  saved  Gilroy's  life,  for  tlie  two  were 
in  close  quarters  and  Giiroy  presented  a  fair  and 
unprotected  target  for  the  llalf  J^rceds  aim. 

Meantime  Lieutenant  Johns  and  his  men  j2^alloped 
rapidly  forward  to  Gilroy's  relief,  and  when  in  line 
with  him,  halted  and  joined  in  the  intcrcstinff  fire 
with  which  he  was  plying  the  Rebels. 

Mad  the  lieutenant's  object  been  to  drop  as  many 
of  the  enemy  as  possible  he  would  have  charged  the 
Half  Breeds;  but  as  he  only  wished  to  check  their 
retreat  until  the  other  detachment  of  scouts  should 
appear,  the  distance  answered  his  purpose  as  effect- 
ively as  nearer  range. 

Suddenly  from  out  the  woods  a  couple  of 
hundred  rods  in  the  rear  of  the  defensive  party, 
came  in  view  the  other  ten  government  scouts.  A 
quick  charge  down  the  hill  brought  them  in  range 
of  the  Half  Breeds,  who  were  thrown  into  confusion 
by  this  unexpected  rear  attack.  Without  waiting 
for  the  second  party  to  come  within  close  range, 
they  lost  no  time  in  giving  the  word  of  surrender 
and  brought  to  a  speedy  close  Rodney's  first  experi- 
ence under  fire. 

After  the  prisoners  had  been  disarmed,  and  all 
save  the  one  whom  Rodney  had  wounded  securely 
bound,  Giiroy  grasped  Rodney's  hand,  exclaimed: 
"  My  lad,  that  first  shot  of  yours  was  a  lucky  one 
for  me — and  a  plucky  one,  too!  It  saved  my  bacon 
sure  as  you're  alive.  I  supposed  you  were  back 
there  with  the  others,  where,  by  good  rights,  you 


50 


THK   YOUNfi    NICWSrAPKR    SCOUT. 


oiij^ht  to  liavc  l)cci).  Hut  I'm  tiii^lity  j;l;i(l.  ;is  tlunps 
turned  out,  that  you  were  oti  IkuuI;  and  I  shall  not 
lorj;et  tliis  turn,  either." 

just  then  Lieutenant  Jolins  hiid  a  liearty  hand  on 
Roihiey's  shouhler  and  exchiimed: 

"  Woy,  you're  a  l)rick!  Never  saw  a  f^rittier 
piece  of  business  in  my  lifel  That's  what  I  call  j^ooii 
fij^htinj^r.  You  couldn't  have  done  better  if  you'd 
been  an  old  hand  at  it.  You  did  the  ri<;ht  thini;  at 
the  ri^ht  time.  If  all  of  my  men  do  as  well  I'll  i)e 
mi^dity  thankful  -  that's  all  I  can  say.  You  plunked 
that  scjuaw-man  just  in  the  niche  of  time." 

Rodney  blushed  under  this  praise,  and  when  lie 
could  speak  replied: 

"  It  was  all  so  quick  that  I  don't  hardly  know 
how  I  happened  to  do  it." 

"Of  course!  That's  the  way  it  always  is  in  this 
kind  of  fighting.  No  time  for  fine  figuring.  And 
the  men  who  can  grasp  the  situation  and  do  their 
work  before  they  know  how  it's  done  are  men  we're 
looking  for.  No,  sir;  there  wasn't  any  fool  fighting 
in  that  little  brush!" 

"Was  the  man  badly  hurt?"  asked  Rodney  in  a 
tone  which  betrayed  the  hope  that  he  had  not  in- 
flicted a  serious  injury  and  the  fear  that  his  shot 
might  have  been  fatal. 

"  Hit  him  square  in  the  right  shoulder.  You 
punished  him  well  for  his  recklessness;  but  I  guess 
he'll  pull  through  all  right.  He's  back  there  grit- 
ting his  teeth  pretty  hard,"  replied  the  Lieutenant 
Johns,  with  a  levity  that  made  Rodney  shudder. 


A    imUSH    WITH    TUV.    IIM.V    HKF.KDS. 


'^l 


"If  you  please,  I'd  like  to  let  him  li  i\c  ni)'  horse 
to  ride  hack  on,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Well,  that's  what  I'd  call—"  Hut  the  lieutenant 
did  n(jt  finish  the  sentence. 

However,  Rodney  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeinjj^ 
tl;  ^  man  whom  he  had  wounded,  liile  back  on  okl 
I*ink-eye;  and  after  they  reached  camp  the  tender- 
hearted boy  not  only  devoted  every  possible  mo- 
ment to  makinL,^  the  man  as  comfortable  as  his 
injuries  would  i)ermit,  but  also  suffereil,  in  keen 
sympathy,  the  pains  which,  through  tlie  inevitable 
fortunes  of  war,  he  had  inflicted. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A  FIERCE  BATTLE  AT  FISH  CREEK. 


THE  scouts  were  joined  at  Clark's  Crossing  by  the 
regulars,  and  the  camp  presented  a  very  impos- 
ing and  warlike  appearance,  at  least  to  Rodney's 
eyes.  The  story  of  his  courageous  conduct  in  the 
capture  of  the  prisoners  evidently  went  the  rounds 
among  the  regulars,  many  of  whom  had  cheerful 
greeting  for  him,  treating  him  as  nearly  like  a  com- 
panion and  an  equal  as  men  can  treat  boys. 

But  the  intimate  companionship  which  sprang  up 
between  the  newspaper  correspondent  and  Rodney 
was  the  greatest  satisfaction  that  had  yet  entered 
into  the  life  of  the  shy,  quiet  boy. 

In  a  few  confidential  chats  by  their  own  camp- 
fire,  Gilroy  drew  the  boy  out  and  discovered  that 
his  intelligence  was  equal  to  his  courage  and  faith- 
fulness and  that  his  knowledge  of  good  books  and 
the  things  best  worth  knowing  was  far  in  advance, 
both  in  range  and  thoroughness,  of  that  acquired  by 
the  average  boy  under  the  best  educational  en- 
vironments. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what's  the  matter,  Captain,"  said 
the  correspondent  to  Captain  French;  "that  lad's 
got  sound  parts.  He's  lived  in  that  little  frontier 
town  and  picked  from  a  priest  and  his  library  more 
real  culture  than  I  had,  at  his  age,  after  attending 

52 


A  FIERCE  BATTLE  AT  FISH  CREEK. 


53 


one  of  the  best  private  schools  in  England.  All  he 
needs  now  to  make  him  a  broad  man  is  the  worldly 
wisdom  that  he'll  get  in  knocking  about  the  world  — 
and  I  guess  he'll  pick  that  up  fast  enough.  Anyway 
I  mean  to  do  the  square  thing  by  him.  I  believe 
he's  got  the  making  of  a  good  newspaper  man  in 
him." 

It  was  enough  for  Rodney  to  know  that  Gilroy 
seemed  to  like  him  and  gave  him  the  hearty 
good  fellowship  that  only  an  adult  companion  could 
have  expected.  It  was  something  to  which  Rodney 
had  never  dared  aspire. 

It  seemed  to  Rodney  that  he  had  never  listened 
to  anything  quite  so  interesting  as  Gilroy's  account 
of  the  great  newspaper  offices  that  he  had  visited 
and  their  wonderful  printing-presses. 

Rodney  purposed  to  ask  more  about  these,  but 
the  exciting  events  which  followed  the  division  of 
the  troops,  on  the  third  day  at  Clark's  Crossing,  put 
all  but  present  events  out  of  mind  for  the  time 
being. 

As  it  was  impossible  to  tell  upon  which  side  of 
the  river  the  Riel  forces  would  be  encountered,  the 
troops  were  divided  equally  between  Lord  Melgund 
and  Gen.  Middleton,  the  former  proceeding  on  the 
north  side  of  the  river,  while  the  latter  scoured  the 
south  shore,  the  scouts  coming  under  the  command 
of  Lord  Melgund. 

The  additional  number  of  troops  in  the  march- 
ing columns,  the  presence  of  the  uniformed  regulars 
and   the   hourly   expectation   of  coming   upon  the 


"■:'  Pi 
ill; 


54 


THE    VOUNfi    NEWSPAPEK     SCOUT. 


enemy,  made  the  march  full  of  excitement  to  Rod- 
ney. 

It  was  not  until  the  third  day  out  of  Clark's 
Crossing  that  the  sharp,  crackling  reports  of  mus- 
ketry, on  the  opposite  bank,  told  that  the  enemy  had 
been  engaged  by  Gen.  Middleton's  division. 

Then  anticipations  leaped  to  fever-heat  on  every 
hand.  Rodney  had  often  speculated  upon  the  feel- 
ings of  a  soldier  about  to  enter  an  engagement,  and 
had  come  to  the  secret  conclusion  that,  while  a 
worthy  soldier  would  not  shrink  from  the  deliberate 
hazard  of  his  life,  he  would  "  look  death  in  the  face" 
and  mentally  prepare  himself  for  the  worst  that 
might  happen.  It  was  almost  impossible  for  him  to 
realize  that  the  men  about  him  vrere  expecting  to  be 
in  the  thick  of  battle  within  the  next  hour.  The 
Half  Breed  boys  at  the  fort  had  never  been  in  more 
jovial  spirits  in  anticipation  of  a  game  of  bailor  a 
wrestling  match  than  were  these  ligh-hearted  sol- 
diers. It  was  only  by  an  analysis  of  his  own  feel- 
ings that  Rodney  could  judge  the  emotions  of  the 
others.  It  seemed  to  him  that  probably  many  of 
the  men  would  be  shot,  but  not  himself.  He  ac- 
counted, however,  for  his  own  comfortable  personal 
view  of  the  matter  by  the  fact  that  he  would  prob- 
ably be  in  a  safe  place,  and  not  exposed  to  the  dan- 
gers like  the  others. 

The  appearance  of  a  couj)le  of  aides,  riding  at 
greatest  speed  over  the  crest  of  the  hills,  on  the  op- 
posite side,  was  the  signal  for  a  burst  of  cheers. 

Before     their    arrival,     Rodney     watched      the 


A    FIERCE    I5ATTI.E    AT    FISH    CREEK. 


^=; 


^c^unners  train  tlicir  cannon  from  the  brow  of  the 
bluff  upon  the  spot  where  the  Half  Breeds  were  sup- 
posed to  be  ambushed.  It  made  the  boy  crinc^e  \(\ 
watch  the  effect  of  the  balls  from  the  bii^  <^un,  as 
they  crashed  through  the  trees  that  oj)posed  their 
passatj^e. 

Before  many  dischar<j^es  from  the  batter)-,  the 
aides  dashe^i  up  to  L(jrd  Melgund,  bringing  dis- 
j)atches  fro'n  Gen.  Middleton,  directing  the  latter  to 
be  sent  across  the  river,  to  his  assistance,  under 
guard  of  the  scouts. 

An  old  scow  had  been  floated  down  the  river  and 
anchored  for  transport  purposes,  and  upon  this  the 
cannon,  after  infinite  pains,  v/as  loaded. 

The    tuij-of-v/ar,    however,   came   in   landincr  the 


gun 
side. 


and  getting  it  up  the  steep  bank  onthe  op[)osite 


To  do  mauual  labor  while  cxposetl  to  the  fire  of 
the  enemy  was  a  sort  of  bravery  which  Rodney  ap- 
preciated for  the  first  time,  as  he  saw  the  men 
laboring  to  hoist  the  heavy  gun  up  the  declivity, 
while  the    balls    from    the    rifles  of  the  Rebel  shart) 


shooters  whistled  close  about  them. 


Tl 


le  latter  were  entrenc 


hed 


in  a 


V-sh 


aped  ravnie. 


protected  by  timber  and  carefully-constructed  rifle 
pits,  from  which  they  poured,  with  comparative 
safety,  a  telling  fire  upon  the  government  forces, 
which  occupied  the  high,  exposed  position  upon  the 
bank  of  the  ravine. 


N 


ow,  young  man,     saic 


1  Gil 


roy,  1 


ath 


er 


itcrnk 


as  soon  as  they  reached  the  elevatit)n   from    wliicli 


56 


THE    VOUNG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


the  cannon  was  ranged  upon  the  occupants  of  the 
ravine,  "  I  want  you  to  take  care  of  yourself  and  keep 
out  of  danger.  There  will  be  no  reason  for  you  to 
expose  yourself  at  all  during  the  fight.  Just  see  all 
you  can  of  it  within  the  bounds  of  safety,  and  try  to 
remember  every  incident  and  detail,  so  that  you  can 
tell  me  all  about  it  afterwards.  When  the  fight  is 
over  I  shall  have  to  send  you  back  to  the  station 
with  a  dispatch;  so  you'd  better  catch  as  much  sleep 
as  you  can,  for  you'll  need  it." 

At  first  Rodney  kept  carefullyintheback  ground, 
but  as  the  excitement  intensified,  his  recollection  of 
Gilroy's  kindly  instructions  became  gradually  less 
vivid,  and  when  he  finally  saw  a  large  log  laying 
close  along  the  edge  of  the  bank  he  lost  no  time 
creeping  to  it.  It  was  an  ideal  position  from  which 
to  observe  the  fight,  and  Rodney  wondered  that 
some  of  the  scouts  had  not  found  it  before  him. 

A  small  opening  underneath  the  log  formed  an 
excellent  peep-hole,  through  which  he  could  see 
distinctly,  without  the  possibility  of  being  sighted  by 
the  Rebels. 

•Til  tell  Mr.  Gilroy  of  this;  for  I'll  warrant  he 
hasn't  found  as  good  an  outlook,"  exclaimed  Rod- 
ney, as  he  turned  about  and  crawled  back  out  of 
range,  where  he  expected  to  find  the  correspondent. 

The  first  men  whom  Rodney  encountered  were 
four  of  the  scouts,  who  were  bringing  back  a  com- 
panion on  an  improvised  stretcher. 

The  man  had  been  struck  in  the  lower  jaw  by  a 
sharp-shooter's  ball  and  presented  a  ghastly  sight, 


A  FIERCE  BATTLE  AT  FISH  CREEK. 


57 


fro  IP  which  the  boy  turned  away  witli   a   faint  and 

sickening  sensation, 

"Looking   for  Gih'oy?"  asked  one  of  the  men, 

who  knew  the  young  newspaper  scout. 

•'Yes,  sir!     Can  you  tell  me  where  he  is?  " 
"Right  over  there  in  that  clump  of  trees,  along 

with  the  general.     It's  infernal  warm  over  there  just 

now    and    you'd    b-tter    pick  your  way  and   keep 

behind  the  trees.    No  sense  in  being  fool-hardy,  you 

know." 

Rodne)  could  see  the  erect  form  of  General 
Middleton,  mounted  on  his  handsome  horse,  and 
standing  beside  him  was  Gilroy. 

Taking  as  protected  a  course  as  possible  Rodney 
soon  found  himself  safely  beside  Gilroy,  who  turned 
upon  him  with  a  disapproving  frown  and  the  excla- 
mation: 

"What!  You  here?  This  is  no  place  for  anyone 
who  doesn't  have  to  fight." 

He  might  have  said  more,  but  that  instant  the 
shrill  scream  of  a  ball  made  them  cringe  and  dodge. 

"That's  a  close  call  for  some  of  us!  "  said  Gilroy, 
changing  the  subject. 

"Rather,  yes!  "  said  the  general,  as  he  quickly 
changed  his  position,  took  his  fur  hat  from  his  head 
and  held  it  out  toward  Gilroy,  "I  reckon  that  shot 
was  meant  for  me!  " 

The  bullet  had  ripped  through  the  top  of  the  hat 
and  could  not  have  passed  more  than  an  inch  from 
his  head. 

"Those  fellows  are  about  as  near  dead  shots  as 


58 


THE    Vv)UNr.    NKWSI'AI'KR    SCOUT. 


1'^'   1  . 


they  make  them — and  Gabriel  Diimont  is  tlic  cham- 
pion of  tlic  \vlu)lc  outfit."  added  the  ij^eneral,  and 
then  <^ave  the  order  lor  the  rilles  to  keej)  a  sharp 
lookout  for  the  head  of  Iviel's  chief  of  staff,  who 
was  known  by  his  [)eculiar  hat,  and  to  make  him  a 
special  tari^et. 

"That's  business!"  remarked  Cai)tain  Wise  of  the 
staff,  in  an  untlertone  to  Gilroy,  "Every  time 
Dumont  shows  his  head  above  their  rifle  pit  it  means 
Gabriel's  trump  for  some  fellow  on  our  side.  And 
he  is  just  smart  enoiu^h  to  change  his  position  after 
every  shot.     No  tellinijj  where  he  will  bob  uj:)." 

The  wonderful  coolness  of  General  Middlcton, 
and  of  all  the  men  about  him,  under  such  terrible 
daiii^er,  impressed  Rodney  with  a  feeling  of  awe 
and  admiration,  which  made  a  big  lump  rise  in  his 
throat.  It  seemed  to  him  that  his  own  conduct  in 
the  skirmish  with  the  Half  Breed  scouts  was  nothing 

Cry 

compared  with  such  deliberate  bravery  as  these  men 
displayed;  and  he  felt  a  keen  sense  of  shame  at  the 
impulse  which  at  that  moment  made  him  wish  that 
he  were  in  safer  quarters. 

"There's  a  perfectly  safe  place  over  there  behind 
a  big  log,  right  on  the  brow  of  the  bluff,   where   we 
can  see  the  whole  thing  through  a  crack  under  the 
log.     I  thought  mebby  you'd  like  to   know    of    it,' 
explained  Rodney,  in  an  undertone, 

"All  right,  we'll " 

A  fierce  cry  of  pain,  different  from  any  that  Rod- 
ney had  yet  heard,  cut  short  the  remainder  of 
Gilroy's  remark. 


an 
HI 

re 


bh 


A    FlKkCi:    liATTM':    AT    l-ISEl    CKKEK 


59 


At  the  sauic   ii..st;int    Rutlncy   saw   the    si)leiuh(l 
animal,  one  of  the  best   in   cain[),    u[)on    whicli    the 


II 


un. 


I 


emnes,  ol  the  ijeneral  s  stall,    was   niuunted, 


rear  and  plunge.  It  had  been  sliut  throu<j;h  and  its 
peculiar  scream  seemed  even  mure  terrible  tu  the 
boy  than  the  moans  of   pain   that   liad    esca[)ed   the 


won 


be  tor 


nded 


man  whom   he  had   met   a    tew    moment: 


He  ex[)ected  to  see  the  horse  dro[)  at  once,  as  the 
blood  was  spurtinc:^  a  stream  from  its  side. 

Feinnes,  who  was  seekinL;"  to  ol)tain  a  better 
knowledL,re  of  the  enemy's  position  and  a  moie  tell- 
in54"  arrangement  of  his  own  forces,  plunged  his  spurs 
into  his  mortally  wounded  horse  and  rode  sheer  up 
to  the  brink  of  the  ravine,  where  his  figure  must  have 
been  clearly  silhouetted  against  the  sky. 

The  close  and  clear  view  of  the  Rebels  which  this 
point  of  vantage  afforded  the  reckless  young  officer 
was  too  great  atemi)tation  to  him,  and  he  drew  his 
revolvers  and  deliberately  empticLl  them  at  Half 
Breeds,  while  a  volley  of  balls  whistled  around  him. 

"The  fool!"  exclaimed  Gilroy,  as  he  grasped 
Lieutenant  Johns' arm  and  watched  the  man  under 
the  spell  of  the  same  awful  fascination  which  held 
Rodney's  attention,  expecting  that  the  next  instant 
would  see  both  man  and  horse  fall—  perhaps  over 
the  brink  of  the  ravine. 

When  Feinnes  had  emptied  the  chambers  of  both 
his  revolvers  he  wheeled  his  horse  about  and  rode 
back  towards  his  men. 

"Well,  if  those  Half  Breeds  don't  give  him  credit 


6o 


THE   YOUNfl   NEWSPAPER   SCOUT. 


for  bcinjT  charmed,  then  I'm  mistaken,"  exclaimed 
Lieutenant  Johns.  "That  was  the  nerviest  piece  of 
fool  fi^rhtini^  I  ever  saw.  He  must  be  bullet-proof, 
lor  nothing  short  of  a  miracle  could  have  saved 
him." 

•'Come,  lad,  let's  get  out  of  this.  It's  altogether 
too  lively  for  me  here,"  said  Gilroy,  who  made  no 
secret  of  the  fear  which  Rodney  had  been  ashamed 
to  admit  even  to  himself. 

Rodney  led  the  Vv^ay  to  his  log. 

"Just  see  the  horses  down  there  along  the  creek!" 
exclaimed  Gilroy,  pointing  to  the  ponies  of  the 
I  lalf  Breeds  which  had  been  hitched  to  the  timber 
in  the  bottom  of  the  ravine.  Many  of  them  were 
dead,  while  the  wounded  ones  were  plunging  furi- 
ously in  efforts  to  break  their  Shagnappy  lariats. 

"If  you  can  get  the  drop  on  any  of  'cm  that 
haven't  been  killed  or  disabled,  you  might  get  a  little 
good  rifle  practice,"  suggested  Gilroy. 

"I'd  rather  put  some  of  the  wounded  and 
suffering  ones  out  of  their  misery,"  replied  Rodney, 
whose  humane  instincts  and  natural  love  of  all 
animals,  and  especially  of  horses,  revolted  against 
the  thought  of  deliberately  shooting  down  the  inno- 
cent creatures.  It  seemed  to  him  that  it  would  be 
more  nearly  right  to  shoot  the  men  who  had  left 
them  thus  exposed. 

He  therefore  selected  one  after  another  of  the 
wounded  ones  and  made  them  his  target. 

"I'm  going  to  see  if  I  can  hit  that  spotted  one  in 
the  head,"  said  Rodney,  as  he  took  aim  at  a   pony 


A    FIERCE    BATTI.E    y\T    FISH    CREEK. 


6l 


that  had  been  wounded  and  was  hiying^  back  upon 
its  tether  until  its  haunches  almost  touched  the 
ground. 

"Good!  try  another!"  exclaimed  Gilroy,  as  the 
Shaganappy  dropped  limply  to  the  ground  after  the 
report  of  Rodney's  rifle. 

As  Rodney  opened  the  guard  of  his  repeater  to 
eject  the  exploded  shell  and  throw  a  fresh  cartridge 
into  place  he  exclaimed: 

"Look!  There's  Uumont!" 

The  next  moment,  as  Gilroy  leveled  his  rifle  at 
the  famous  Half  Breed  lieutenant,  Rodney  would 
have  given  almost  anything  in  his  power  to  have 
recalled  his  words. 

"Click!"  went  the  hammer  of  the  gun.  The  cart- 
ridge had  failed  and  Gilroy  jerked  back  the  shell 
ejector  with  a  stronger  exclamation  of  anger  and 
disgust  than  Rodney  had  ever  heard  him  use  before. 

Rodney,  however,  could  scarcely  surpress  the 
exclamation  of  relief  and  thankfulness  that  rose  to 
his  lips  at  the  result.  It  seemed  like  murder  to  him 
to  lay  concealed  in  ambush,  select  a  particular  vic- 
tim and  shoot  him  down  with  cool,  calculating  de- 
liberation. 

"That  fellow's  like  Feinnes,  he's  bullet-proof — 
and  a  regular  dare-devil,  too.  I'll  bet  he's  killed 
more  of  our  men  than  any  man  in  Riel's  army.  And 
the  bad  whisky  that  he  used  to  sell  in  his  groggery 
has  done  up  perhaps  as  many  honest  men  as  his 
rifle  has." 

Rodney  could  not  help  thinking  that  the  dashing 


62 


TlIK    VOl'Nd    NFCWSl'AI'KR    SCOUT. 


yoiiiii]^  Iliill  l^rccd  certainly  coinnianclcd  Ljrcatcr  re- 
spect in  liis  present  role  <  I  chief  lieutenant  ul  t)ie 
()l)pressed  settlers' forces  than,  in  his  former  calling, 
of  seUin<;  slow  poison  to  his  friends. 

As  the  dusk  settled  down  the  firinc!^  fri-aclually 
ceased,  picket  lines  weie  thrown  out  and  the  news- 
[)aper  scouts  moved  ab')ut  headtjuarters  i)ickin<.^  up 
the  d(;tails  of  the  day's  fi^htin^-. 

It  was  learned  that  the  Ljover'nent  forces  hatl 
lost  about  forty-nine  men. 

'•Now  turn  in  and  sleep  until  I  wake  you.  I  shall 
get  my  specials  written  up  by  early  morning  and 
then  I'll  rout  you  and  you  can  take  the  back 
track  for  the  telegraph  station.  I  don't  think  you'll 
have  any  trouble  in  getting  through  all  right,  but 
you'll  have  to  keep  a  sharp  out-look  for  Febel 
scouts.  And  if  you  should  run  against  any  of  them, 
don*t  have  any  false  pride  about  showing  them  your 
hors  -'s  heels  and  leaving  them  behind  as  fast  as 
possible.     Well,  good-night." 

With  these  instructions  in  his  mind,  Rodney 
rolled  himself  in  his  blanket,  feeling  that  sleep  would 
be  out  of  the  question  after  the  intense  excitement 
of  the  day. 

He  was  but  fairly  launched  in  his  speculations 
upon  what  the  morrow  would  bring  forth,  when  he 
dropped  into  heavy  slumber. 

It  seemed  to  him,  when  in  the  morning  Gilroy's 
vigorous  shakes  aroused  him,  that  he  had  but  just 
retired, 

"  Put  these   dispatches   in  your  boots,  get  your- 


A    FIERCE    liATTLE    AT    FISH    (  KKEK. 


63 


self  some  breakfast  and  tlicn  put  out  at  as  pjood  a 
pace  as  you  think  your  horse  will  hold.  If  )()u 
make  the  trip  in  extra  time,  (juick  you  mayj^et  back 
here  before  we  break  camp,  for  the  pjeneral  has 
decided  to  wait  for  reinforcements  before  moving 
on  to  Batosch." 


5 


CHAPTER  VIT. 


T 


THE  LOST  CHILI). 

HERE  liad  always  been  a  peculiar  charm  to 
Rodney  in  the  ^ray  diiniiess  of  an  early  spring 
morning;  and  as  he  saddled  rink-cyc,  after  eating 
his  breakfast  and  providing  liinLself  with  a  little 
lunch  for  his  journey,  this  peculiar  inlluence  was 
especially  strong  upon  him.  It  stirred  all  the  tender 
instincts  of  the  boy,  and  his  thoughts  wen:  back  to 
his  mother.  He  wondered  whether  or  not  she  had 
found  it  very  lotiely  since  his  departure,  and  from 
that  fell  to  thinking  how  glad  she  would  be  to  see 
him  when  he  should  return. 

Although  he  had  been  as  obedient  and  thought- 
ful of  his  parents'  comfort  as  any  hapi)y,  healthy 
boy  could  reasonably  be  ex[)ectLd  to  be,  it  was 
not  difficult,  when  in  this  reflective  mood,  to 
recall  many  ways  in  which  he  might  have 
contributed  to  his  mother's  happiness  and  comfort^ 
which  he  had  failed  to  improve;  and  as  the  weary, 
hopeless  drudgery  of  her  life  came  clearly  before 
his  mind  its  pathetic  desolatcness  touched  him  more 
strongly  than  ever  before. 

V,"  If  I  get  through  this  thing  all  right,  I  know 
what  I'll  do!  "  he  mused,  slapping  his  leg  in  a  burst 
of  enthusiasm.  **  Mother  shall  have  a  trip  back  to 
Illinois  to  see  her  folks.      It  would  do  her  a  world 

64 


THK    LOST    CHIl.D. 


65 


of  nrootl.     And  niaybc  I  could  i^o  wit'    her  and  }j;ct  d 
place  on  sonic  ncwspajicr.  " 

The  barkitij^of  a  doj^,  that  had  been  waiting  in 
ambush  by  the  side  of  the  road,  aroused  him  from 
jiis  reverie  to  the  consciousness  that  he  was  making 
very  poor  haiite. 

The  snapping  of  the  cur  about  the  heels  of  Pink- 
eye set  the  Siia^anappy  off  at  a  round  canter,  to 
which  he  steadily  held. 

When  passing  through  the  open  country  Rodney 
felt  conii)aratively  little  anxiety  about  his  safety 
from  prowlinjj^  scouts;  but  as  he  approached  a  lon^ 
stretch  of  woods,  which  came  close  to  the  road  on 
cither  side,  his  watchfulness  instinctively  quickened 
and  his  faculties  were  keyed  to  catch  the  slightest 
sign  of  danger. 

lie  was  well  along  into  the  center  of  the  woods, 
when  he  pulled  Pink-eye  to  a  sharp  halt  and  paused 
to  listen. 

Yes,  there  could  be  no  doubt  about  it!  He  surely 
heard  a  human  voice  back  from  the  road,  in  the 
interior  of  the  woods.  Again  he  listened.  This 
time  the  sound  came  with  startling  clearness.  It  was 
a  woman's  voice,  hoarse  and  strained,  calling  loudly. 

"Jean!  Oh  Jean!  Jean!"  it  repeated,  in  a  voice 
that  told  him  plainly  that  the  woman  must  be  hunt- 
ing for  a  lost  child. 

**  It  wont  take  long,  just  to  stop  and  sec  what  the 
trouble  is,"  he  argued  with  himself;  "and  I'll  push 
Pink-eye  through  a  little  harder  to  make  up  for  the 
delay. " 


66 


THE    Y(1UNG    NKWSPAI'KK     SCOUT. 


As  tlic  voice  sounded  neaver  witli  each  repetition 
of  the  pitiful  call,  lie  concluded  tliat  he  would  see 
the  woman  as  soon  by  waitinij^  quietly  in  the  road 
where  he  was,  as  he  would  by  atteniptini:^  to  <.r(jt 
throui^h  the  timber  toward  her.  He  also  did  not 
wish  to  run  the  risk  of  lea\^in<j^  his  horse  for  even  a 
few  moments  in  the  road.  It  seemed  impossible  for 
him  to  pass  by  without  any  heed  to  the  woman's  dis- 
tress, and  he  did  not  think  best  to  call  out  to  her. 

Althoui^h  oblii^ed  to  wait  but  a  few  mo- 
ments, it  seemed  a  loni^  time  to  Rodney,  under 
stress  of  his  sympathy  and  anxiety,  before  the  woman 
appeared  in  the  road,  several  rods  in  advance  of  him. 

lie  called  quietly  to  her  and  was  soon  at  her 
side,  listenini^  to  her  story. 

Her  husband,  she  said,  nas  in  Kiel's  forces  at 
Ratosch,  and  she  had  been  left  at  home  with  their 
four  children.  Their  cabin  was  so  close  to  the  bank 
of  the  ravine,  at  Fish  Creek,  that  she  had  been 
obliged  to  flee  from  it  with  her  children.  They  had 
started  for  the  cabin  of  a  friend,  five  miles  in  the 
direction  ii.  which  Rodney  was  going. 

When  they  had  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods  it 
came  to  her  that  she  had  forgotten,  in  the  panic  of 
their  fright,  the  little  money  she  had  hid  in  the 
cabin,  and  now  that  the  children  were  out  of  danger, 
she  determined  to  go  back  for  it.  Leaving  the 
three  younger  children  in  care  of  the  eldest  girl, 
seven  years  old,  she  hurrijd  back  to  their  deserted 
home  and  secured  the  stocking  in  which  their  little 
hoard  of  money  was  concealed. 


THI':    LOST    CIIILID. 


67 


In  an  hour  she  was  back  to  her  cliildrcn,  but  tlic 
oldest  ^irl  was  niissint^.  Tlie  baby  had  called  ior 
water  and  she  had  L^cne  to  look  for  a  sprinc^.  From 
that  time  she  had  been  searchini^  the  woods,  with- 
out findint^  any  trace  of  the  lost  girl.  The  other 
children  had  been  left  with  the  wife  of  a  settler, 
whose  cabin  was  near  at  hand. 

Rodney  assured  her  that  he  would  not  onlykeej) 
a  constant  lookout  for  the  child,  in  the  remainder 
of  his  journey,  but  would  also  stop  at  the  cabin  to 
which  they  had  ori<^inally  set  out,  and  tell  their 
friends  of  her  distress. 

It  was  a  severe  hardship  for  the  boy  to  continue 
his  journey,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  escape  from 
the  necessity  of  this.  He  consoled  himself,  how- 
ever, with  the  thouj_;ht  that  perhaps  he  mi<^ht  be  as 
likely  to  come  accidentally  upon  the  lost  child  as  he 
would  b-:  to  find  it  upon  a  definite  search. 

When  at  last  he  reached  the  telegraph  station 
and  tied  old  Pink-eye  to  the  ring  in  the  platform,  he 
could  not  forbear  putting  a  few  caressing  pats  upon 
the  pony's  scrawny,  U-shaped  neck,  which  was  wet 
with  foam  and  sweat. 

'•  Well,  you  are  a  stayer,  so  you  are!  I'll  see  if  I 
can't  scare  you  up  a  good  feed  of  oats,"  he  said  to 
the  pony,  which  seemed  to  understand  his  words. 

A^ter  attending  to  the  dispatches  and  writing  a 
short  letter  to  his  mother,  Rodney  secured  from  the 
station  agent  a  feed  of  oats  and  gave  them  to  the 
faithful  animal,  which  he  carefully  groomed  with  a 
bit  of  an  old  blanket,  also  obtained  from  the  agent. 


68 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


'iiji  ■  ■■  fui 


Then  he  ate  his  lunch  and  wrote  a  short  letter  to 
his  mother. 

But  his  mind  was  filled  with  thoughts  of  the 
half-breed  mother,  searching  the  woods  for  her 
lost  child.  If  only  he  might  find  the  little  girl  ! 
He  determined  to  risk  a  slight  delay  in  getting  back 
to  camp  in  order  to  make  a  short  search  for  the 
child,  for  he  was  sure  that  Gilroy  would  not  object, 
under  the  circumstances. 

With  this  determination,  he  quickly  saddled  Pink- 
eye and  began  to  retrace  his  course  at  even  greater 
speed  than  he  had  come. 

So  completely  did  the  thought  of  rescuing  the 
child  absorb  him,  that  Gilroy's  caution  about  keep- 
ing a  sharp  lookout  for  prowling  half-breed  scouts 
was  completely  forgotten. 

lie  paused  and  listened  to  every  unusual  sound, 
and  frequently  went  out  of  the  roadway  to  investi- 
gate objects  which  had  the  faintest  suggestion  of 
resemblance  to  a  child  or  to  a  bit  of  clothing.  But 
each  of  these  sounds  and  objects,  which  at  first 
excited  his  hopes,  proved  upon  investigation  to  be 
natural  and  common-place,  that  he  wondered  how 
he  could  have  been  misled  by  them;  and  as  he 
had  neared  the  place  where  he  had  met  the  woman, 
he  almost  despaired  of  success. 

Nevertheless,  he  paused  a  moment  to  debate 
with  himself  the  advisability  of  carrying  out  his 
determination.  In  view  of  the  fact  that  the  mother 
had  herself  patroled  the  woods,  calling  the  child's 
name  at  almost  every  step,  it  seemed  i  seless  for  him 


THE    LOST   CHILD. 


69 


i 


^ 


to  spend  the  hour  or  two  that  he  would  dare  to 
delay,  in  searching  over  the  same  ground. 

"It's  no  use  !  1  might  just  as  well  go  on,"  he  said 
to  himself,  and  accordingly  put  spurs  to  his  horse 
and  hastened  on. 

Ashe  came  within  sight  of  the  "open"  between  the 
timber  and  the  camp,  overlooking  Fish  Creek,  he 
noticed  what  seemed  like  a  light  trail  leading  into 
the  woods.  Closer  scrutiny  confirmed  this  suspicion, 
for  there  were  the  prints  of  a  horse's  hoof,  which 
had  been  recently  shod. 

"I'll  follow  this  up  for  a  little  way  and  see  where 
it  leads  to,"  he  said  to  himself. 

Although  a  moment's  reflection  would  have  fur- 
nished Rodney  with  several  reasonable  explanations 
for  the  presence  of  this  trail,  it  aroused  in  him  a 
boyish  excitement,  at  the  thought  of  having  dis- 
covered a  secret  trail  which  he  could  follow  alune. 
Who  could  tell  to  what  strange  developments  it 
might  lead? 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  he  managed  to  follow 
the  trail  for  about  a  hundred  rods  through  the 
woods  into  the  mouth  of  a  rocky  and  watered  ravine, 
the  existence  of  which  he  had  not,  from  the  general 
"lay"  of  the  country,  before  mistrusted.  This  was  an 
interesting  development,  and  he  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  to  continue  his  explorations  a  little  dis- 
tance further  up  the  gulch,  although  he  was  no 
longer  able  to  see  the  prints  of  the  sharply  "corked" 
horseshoes. 

As  he  proceeded  he  found  the  banks  on  either 


70 


THE   YOUNG    NEWSPAPER     SCOUT. 


f       I 


side  of  the  stream  more  high  and  rocky.  Occasion- 
ally flat  shelves  of  rock  jutted  out  at  considerable 
elevations,  and  as  frequently  he  caught  sight  of 
large  holes  in  the  banks,  which  looked  delightfully 
suggestive  to  his  boyish  imagination,  of  dark  and 
secret  caverns. 

He  was  about  to  halt  and  investigate  one  of  these 
openings,  when  he  heard  far  up  the  ravine  the 
violent  bellowing  of  a  bull.  At  first  his  impulse  was 
to  dismiss  this  fact  without  further  thought,  but  in 
his  alert  and  imaginative  mood,  the  most  ordinary 
facts  became  significa  it,  and  he  relinquished  his 
purpose  to  peer  in  the  hole  as  quickly  as  he  had 
formed  it. 

Putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  cantered  briskly  up 
the  flac,  shaly  bottom  of  the  gulch,  until  it  turned  a 
sharp  angle.  As  he  dashed  around  this  curve,  his 
heart  seemed  for  the  moment  to  cease  beating. 

Within  twenty  rods  of  him,  hooking  and  pawing 
the  earth  of  the  bank  in  rage,  and  bellowing  furi- 
ously, was  as  scurvy  and  uninviting  a  specimen  of 
semi-wild  bull  as  Rodney  had  ever  seen,  while  from 
one  of  the  protruding  shelves  of  stone  waved  in  the 
wind  the  object  which  had  inflamed  the  creature's 
fury  to  a  state  of  madness. 

It  was  the  red  flannel  dress  of  a  child.  Each 
time  that  a  breeze  would  shake  the  garment,  the  bull's 
rage  would  mount  to  a  terrific  pitch,  and  the  brute 
would  rush  up  the  steep  bank  until  he  would  find 
himself  standing  impotently  underneath  the  shelf 
of  rock  upon  which  the  child  was  resting. 


THE    LOST    CHILD. 


71 


Before  Rodney  could  pull  Pink-eye  to  a  halt,  the 
bull  caught  sight  of  him,  paused  a  moment,  with 
his  sharp,  grimy  horns  lifted  smartly  aloof,  and  then, 
with  a  wild,  resonant  bellow,  charged  upon  the  new 
invader  of  his  retreat. 

All  of  the  cow-boy  stories  which  Rodney  had  read 
represented  that,  when  in  the  saddle,  a  man  was 
safe  from  the  attacks  of  cattle,  save  in  the  case  of 
a  stampede. 

Rodney  thought  of  this,  as  the  bull  came  bound- 
ing toward  him,  and  would  not  have  been  sur- 
prised  to  see  the  animal  stop  at  any  moment. 

But  the  bull  did  not  stop.  It's  leaps  became 
quicker  and  longer.  Rodney  reached  for  his  revolv- 
er, unbuttoned  the  flap  of  his  holster,  and  drew  it 
out,  just  as  the  bull  plunged  into  the  shallow  water 
of  the  stream. 

The  boy  had  no  notion  of  running  from  a 
"  scrub  "  bull,  whether  there  were  any  spectators 
present  to  observe  his  conduct  or  not. 

"Whoa — stand  still,  Pink-eye!"  he  commanded 
the  shaganappy,  which  obeyed  with  military  prompt- 
ness and  fidelity. 

Then  he  fired  three  shots,  in  rapid  succession,  at 
the  breast  of  the  oncoming  brute,  and  jabbed  his 
spurs  into  the  pony's  flanks,  as  he  imagined  a  Span- 
ish bull-fighter  might  do. 

It  was  a  happy  precaution,  for  an  instant  after 
the  bull  made  a  plunge  which  would  have  pinned 
both  horns  into  the  horse's  side. 

Quickly  wheeling  Pink-eye  about,  Rodney  again 


72 


THE    VOUXC;    NEWSPAPER     SCOUT. 


emptied  a  chainl)cr  of  his  revolver  at  tlie  broadside 
of  the  bull,  as  the  latter  went  sprawliiii;'  14)011  his 
knees  on  the  stones. 

This  ball,  whieh  entered  the  animal's  side  just 
back  of  it's  shoulder,  was  more  effective  than  the 
others,  althoui^h  it  did  not  produce  instant  death,  as 
Rodney  exi)ected  when  he  saw,  by  the  spurtini^ 
blood,  where  it  had  entered.  The  wounded  bull 
still  continued  to  propel  itself  by  its  hind  letj^s, 
while  its  brenst  plowed  up  the  loose  shale  stones  in 
the  bed  of  the  ravine. 

Believing  that  the  creature  was  mortrdly  wounded, 
Rodney  took  more  deliberate  aim,  and  sent  the  two 
remainin<^  charges  into  its  vital  parts  with  fatal  ef- 
fect. In  the  intense  excitement  of  his  o\\  n  peril 
Rodney,  for  the  instant,  fori^ot  the  presence  of  the 
child;  but  as  soon  as  he  san^  that  the  bull  was  dead, 
the  recollection  of  the  little  figure  stretched  upon 
the  shelf  of  rock  came  back  to  him  with  fresh  force 


and  em 


ph; 


isis. 


"Is  she  alive?"  was  the  awful  question  that 
spurred  him  to  put  his  horse  through  the  slippery 
bed  of  the  stream  at  a  reckless  gallop. 

Reaching  a  spot  below  the  rock,  he  leaped  from 
his  saddle  and  clambered  up  the  steep  bank. 

"  Dead!"  he  muttered,  as  he  caught  the  first 
glimpse  of  the  child's  face. 

Instantly  gathering  the  limj),  little  body  in  his 
arms,  the  lad  rushed  down  the  bank  to  the  edge  of 
the  creek,  from  which  he  dipped  handfuls  of  water 
and  dashed  them  into  her  face.    ■ 


i 


KHSCUli   Ol'   TUl';   LOST   CHILD. 


if 

111 


THK    LOST   CHILD. 


73 


He  saw  her  cyclitls  twich  .iiul  quiver.  At  last 
they  opened  and  she  ^ave  a  little  cry — he  could  not 
tell  whether  ol  joy  or  fear — and  then  sank  into 
stupor  aL^ain.  Ilavin^,^  once  seen  a  boy,  who  had, 
when  skatin<^s  fallen  tluou^^^h  the  ice  of  the  river, 
broutTht  back  from  unconsciousness  by  vigorous 
rubbing,  Rodney  determined  to  try  that  remedy  (jn 
the  child,  and  promptly  be^^an  to  chafe  her  face, 
hands  and  bare  feet  and  ankles. 

It  proved  almost  instantly  effective,  fr  '^o  child 
soon  revived  and  sat  upright  on  the  stones 

Where  is  the  bull — and  ma — and  th<  'hlK.icn?" 
she  asked  in  confusion. 

"The  bull  is  dead  —  over  there  on  tlie  udicr  side; 
see?"  he  answered,  pointing  to  the  ai  ni.  "Your 
mother  and  the  children  are  safe  and  I  am  going  to 
take  you  to  them.  I'm  a  newspaper  scout,  and 
that's  my  ho;se  up  by  the  bank  behind  us,"  he  added 
proudly;  but  was  almost  ashamed  of  the  words  as 
soon  as  he  had  spoken  them,  for  he  realized  that 
they  were  a  little  foolish  and  boastful. 

"Oh  I'm  awful  hungry!"  exclaimed  the  child,  in 
a  pitiful  wailing  tone,  and  then  began  to  sob. 

"Drink  some  water  and  I'll  go  to  my  saddle  and 
get  some  crackers  that  I  had  left  from  my  lunch." 

He  scooped  up  more  water  in  the  palm  of  his 
hand  and  held  it  to  her  lips  again  and  again.  It 
seemed  to  Rodney  that  she  could  not  have  drank 
more  eagerly  if  she  had  been  rescued  from  days  of 
wondering  without  water  upon  the  plains  or  the 
Sahara. 


74 


THE    YOUNG    NEWSPAPKK    SCOUT. 


"There!  You  hadn't  better  (hiiik  any  more  just 
now."  He  ran  to  his  saddle  and  took  from 
behind  it  the  little  bundle  in  which  he  had  stowed 
the  remnants  of  his  lunch. 

After  soaking  a  couple  of  the  crackers  in  the 
water  he  g;avc  them  to  her,  and  she  devoured  them 
with  an  almost  savai^e  ^reed. 

"You'll  have  to  let  me  carry  you  in  front  of  me 
on  the  saddle.  Do  you  think  you  can  stand  it  to 
ride  that  way?  We'll  be  where  your  mother  is  in 
just  a  few  minutes  if  you  can."  And  without  wait- 
ing,' for  a  reply  h'e  carried  her  to  the  side  of  Pink-eye 
and  lifted  her  tenderly  into  the  saddle. 

She  clung  to  its  horn  while  he  mounted  and 
then  he  started  to  retrace  his  course  back  to  the 
road. 

Before  they  had  gone  a  dozen  rods  he  gave  the 
bridle-rein  a  sharp  pull,  which  brought  Pink-eye  to 
an  abrupt  halt.  After  a  moment  of  intent  listening 
he  wheeled  the  faithf".!  shaganappy  quickly  about, 
and  said  in  an  undertone: 

"Now  Jean,  don't  be  frightened,  or  cry.  We  must 
ride  fast,  for  you  know  your  mother  is  waiting  to 
see  you." 

Then  he  plunged  the  spurs  into  the  pony's 
sides  with  a  vigor  that  gave  the  knowing  brute  to 
understand  that  serious  business  was  on  hand. 

As  it  leaped  along  the  hard  level  bottom  of  the 
ravine  Rodney  could  hear  the  clatter  of  other  hoofs 
beyond  the  turn  in  the  ravine,  coming  toward  him 
at  terrific  speed.     He  was  sure  that  they  were  rebel 


THE    LOST   CHI  LP 


75 


scouts  who  had  been  attracted  by  tlie  sound  of  his 
shots  at  the  bull. 

It  required  only  a  few  minutes  to  c<jnfinn  this 
opinion,  for  as  lialf  a  dozen  horsemen  came  in  si^ht 
around  the  turn  of  the  .ijully,  as  many  bullets  whistled 
after  him. 

They  were  hred  at  too  threat  a  distance  and  from 
too  unsteady  seats  to  do  him  any  iiijui)'. 

For  a  hundreil  rods  he  held  his  distance  straight 
ahead,  holdinj^  in  front  of  him  tlu;  child,  who  seemed 
too  terrified  to  even  scream.  Then  he  could  see 
that  the  scouts  were  [gradually  L^ainini,^  upun  his 
awkwardly  burdened  horse. 

When  it  seemed  as  thou<::^h  a  few  moments  more 
must  surely  brinc^  his  pursuers  within  rifle  ran<^e  of 
him,  he  saw  some  thirty  rods  ahead  of  him  a  tribu- 
tary creek  joining  the  main  stream  by  the  side  of 
which  he  was  ridinc^. 

The  thou,Ljht  flashed  into  his  mind  that  this  branch 
ravine  would  doubtless  lead  him  up  to  the  i^eneral 
level  of  the  surrounding  country  sooner  tli-m  the 
principal  one  that  he  was  now  following.  Altfiough 
he  could  not  have  given  a  reason  for  this  intuition 
he  instinctively  accepted  it  and  took  new  courage. 

All  that  spurs  and  words  of  urging  could  do  to 
incite  Pink-eye  to  a  fresh  burst  of  speed  was  done, 
and  the  animal  seemed  to  grasp  a  full  understanding 
of  the  fearful  necessities  of  the  moment.  His  hoofs 
struck  sparks  from  the  stony  trail  at  every  leap. 

Not  until  close  up  to  the  point  where  they  must 
turn   into  the  tributary  ravine  did  Rodney  cease  ':o 


I    t 


76 


TIIK    VOUNf,    NF.WSI'AIT.K     SCOUT. 


urp;c  llic  .initiKil  on.  Then  he  even  slackened  Tink- 
eye's  speed  in  order  to  rout"!  the  abrupt  turn  in 
safety. 

As  he  did  this,  another  volley  f  shots  told  hini 
that  the  scouts  were  still  in  des[)erate  pursuit  and 
determined  to  contest  every  possible  chance  to 
csca[)e;   but  ai^ain  their  balls  fell  wide  of  the  mark. 

Once  safely  around  die  difficult  turn,  he  again 
bent  every  effort  to  regain  his  former  speed. 

Before  the  scouts  came  once  more  in  view,  a 
glad  shout  broke  from  the  lad,  for  at  the  end  of  the 
ravine,  not  a  hundred  rods  beyond,  he  caught  sight 
of  the  camp  of  the  rifles  and  the  government  scouts. 


CIIAPTKR  VIII. 


A    FORAGING    KXI'F.niTION. 


TIIIC  sifjnificancc  of  Rodney's  yell  seemed  to  be 
instantly  understood  by  both  his  pursuers  and 
the  friends  in  front  of  him,  for  searcely  had  the 
echoes  ilied  away  when  he  saw  that  a  detachment  of 
horsemen  break  from  the  ranks  of  government  scouts 
and  come  to  his  relief  with  all  possii)le  speed;  but 
the  shots  and  the  clatter  of  hoofs  behind  him  sud- 
denly stopped  and  he  rightly  p^uessed  that  the  rebel 
scouts  had  not  only  abandoned  all  hope  of  capturinj;^ 
him  but  were  making  good  their  own  escape. 

He  therefore  slackened  his  speed  and  made  the 
remaining  distance  to  camp  in  greater  leisure,  for 
old  Pink-eye  was  well-spent  and  winded  by  the  long 
and  rapid  journey  of  the  day  and  the  exciting  race 
with  which  it  had  ended. 

As  the  posse  of  scouts  in  pursuit  of  the  rebels 
who  had  given  Rodney  so  close  a  chase  urged  their 
horses  past  him,  they  gave  him  rousing  cheers  at 
the  sight  of  the  child. 

The  reception  which  was  given  him  in  camp, as  he 
hande('  his  burden  into  Gilroy's  arms  and  dismounted, 
was  eno.  gh  to  have  made  a  full-grown  man  proud, 
to  say  nothing  of  a  boy. 

As  he  suspected  from  their  behavior,  the  troops 
had  heard  the  story  of  the  lost  child — and  there  was 

ft  77 


78 


THE   YOUNG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


not  a  man  of  them  who  would  not  have  risked  his 
own  life  to  save  the  little  girl. 

Not  only  did  the  scouts  gather  about  Rodney  to 
hear  an  account  of  his  adventure,  but  they  were 
joined  by  the  captains  and  even  Lord  Melgund  and 
Gen.  Middlcton. 

Meantime  the  child  had  been  given  into  the  care 
of  the  physician,  for  fear  that  the  intense  strain 
through  which  it  had  just  passed,  following  instantly 
upon  partaking  of  the  first  food  after  so  terrible  a 
fast,  might  result  seriously. 

"Someone  ought  to  go  at  once  and  tell  the  mother 
that  the  child  is  found,"  suggested  Gilroy.  Espe- 
ically  as  it  is  decided  best  to  keep  her  under  the  doc- 
tor's charge  until  she  is  out  of  all  danger  from  the 
fast  and  excitement." 

"Let  the  boy  go  himself.  He's  earned  it,"  added 
Captain  French. 

This  suggestion  was  accepted  as  a  happy  one  by 
all,  and  Rodney,  mounted  on  a  fresh  horse  an  1  ac- 
companied by  Gilroy  set  out  to  find  the  mother. 

After  visiting  several  of  the  cabins  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  woods  where  Rodney  had  found  the  dis- 
tressed mother,  they  at  last  approached  one  which 
well  was  concealed  in  the  timber. 

"  Hark!"  exclaimed  Rodney,  stopping  his  horse, 
"  I  can  hear  somebody  crying!" 

"Sounds  like  it;  don't  it?  I  guess  we're  on  the 
righ*:  track  this  time,"  responded  Gilroy. 

A  nearer  approach  to  the  little  cabin  confirmed 
their  hopes,  for  a  low,  pitiful  wailing  that  sounded 


A    FORAC.JNi;    EXPEDITION. 


79 


strangely  wierd  and  uncanny  in  the  deepening  siiad- 
ows  of  the  dusk,  became  clearer. 

A  dog  bounded  from  his  lair  and  under  the  cabin 
and  came  forward,  growling  and  showing  his  teeth 
with  a  savage  dignity  that  indicated  to  Gilroy  and 
Rodney  that  his  bite  promised  to  be  more  dangerous 
than  his  bark. 

"  Helloo!"  called  Gilroy  loudly  at  the  house,  and 
then  added,  in  an  undertone,  to  Rodney: 

*'  I  don't  believe  that  I'd  like  to  trouble  the  hen- 
roosts around  this  place  until  reasonably  certain 
ihat  this  bloody  cur  is  out  of  the  way." 

Rodney  noticed  that  the  wailing  had  ceased  with 
the  first  growl  of  the  dog. 

In  a  moment  the  door  opened  wide  enough  to 
show  the  dim  outline  of  a  woman's  face. 

"Who  be  ye;  an'  what  ye  want?"  said  a  cracked 
voice,  intended  to  be  very  bold  and  forbidding,  but 
which  betrayed  the  fear  with  which  the  woman  was 
shaking. 

"  We're  friends.  Can  you  tell  us  where  we  can 
find  the  woman  whose  little  child  was  lost?"  replied 
Gilroy. 

In  an  instant  the  door  flew  wide  open  and  the 
mother  dashed  out,  nearly  capsizing  the  woman  who 
stood  in  the  door. 

"Where  is  she?"  demanded  the  mother,  with  a 
fierceness  which  almost  frightened  Rodney. 

Before  he  couM  reply  she  sank  down  upon  the 
steps  of  the  cabin,  threw  her  apron  back  over  her 
head  and  began  to  rock  back  and  forth  moaningly: 


1 


I?'P'1  m 


80 


THE    YOUNG    NEWSPAPKR     SCOUT. 


"Oh,  you  needn't  tell  me!  Siie's  dead! — dead! 
Oh.  Jean!" 

"  No!  No!"  (juickly  interrupted  ("iilroy.  "She's 
found!  She's  all  safe,  back  at  the  cani[),  where  the 
doctor  is  Ljivini:^  her  food  and  medicine.  This  lad, 
liere,  fi)und  her." 

Rodney  half  expected  that  the  woman  would  be 
profuse  in  exi)ressions  of  f^ratitude  at  this— at  least 
it  was  the  way  they  always  acted  in  the  stories  that 
he  had  read. 

But  she  did  not.  Instead,  she  became  suddenly 
quiet — almost  silent.  At  last,  in  a  ilazed  way,  she 
arose  from  the  steps  and  stag\Ljered,  in  a  confused  way, 
toward  them. 

"Take  me  there — quick;  can't  ye?"  she  de- 
manded. 

"Can  y(ni  ride  my  horse?"  asked  Rodney,  begin- 
ning to  dismount. 

"  No.  You  ride  right  along  and  I'll  follow  —only 
hurry  up,"  was  the  impatient  reply. 

They  did  so  and  she  kept  close  alongside  the 
horses. 

As  they  approached  camp  Rodney  noticed  that 
she  seemed  to  wish  to  shrink  from  the  sight  of  the 
pickets,  and  he  said: 

"You  needn't  be  afraid  of  the  soldiers.  They're 
all  sorry  for  you  and  are  glad  that  your  little  girl  is 
found." 

This  thoughtful  observation  reassured  the 
woman. 

As  she   entered  the   tent  where   the   child  was 


A    FORAGING    EXPEDITION. 


8l 


quietly  sicepincj  she  uttered  a  low  cry  and  clasi)cd 
the  little  j^irl  ai^ainst  her  breast  with  a  ferocious 
way  which  brouL^ht  swellinij  lumps  iuto  the  throats 
of  the  men  who  chanced  to  be  observers  of  the 
touching  scene.  In  spite  of  his  efforts  to  hide  his 
emotion  the  tears  sprang  into  Rodney's  eyes,  and 
he  slipped  quietly  out  of  the  tent  in  order  to  avoid 
anything  like  a  "scene"  which  might  occur  shoukl 
the  woman  bethink  herself  to  thank  him.  To  see  the 
inexpressible  joy  of  the  mother  was  thanks  enough 
for  him. 

On  entering  their  own  tent  he  realized  for  theurst 
time  that  day,  that  he  was  both  desperately  hungry 
and  tired. 

"Feel  pretty  well  played  out?"  asked  Gilroy  in  a 
tone  of  kindly  sympathy, 

"Yes  sir — rather,"  replied  Rodney,  as  he  settled 
limply  down  upon   a  blanket. 

"Well,  I  don't  wonder!  I  don't  suppose  you've 
had  more  'n  a  good  stiff  smell  of  anything  to  eat  and 
you've  expended  enough  energy  to  require  about  a 
dozen  ordinary  meals.  Just  as  I  thought!  so  I've 
managed  to  scare  up  a  chicken — borrowed  it — and 
now  you're  going  to  stay  right  there  while  I  roast  it 
for  you." 

Rodney  attempted  to  protest  against  this  "swap- 
ping places"  with  Gilroy,  but  the  latter  good-natured- 
ly silenced  tlie  boy,  and  the  air  was  soon  fragrant 
with  the  odor  of  the  roasting  fowl. 

He  could  scarcely  wait  for  the  operation  to  be 
finished,  and   he  ate  with  an  appetite    which    Gilroy 


:r 


11 


82 


THE    YOUNG    NEWSPAPER     SCOUT. 


declared  would  have  done  credit  to  an  Indian  who 
had  not  tasted  food  for  a  fortnight  and  did  not  expect 
to  for  as  loni^  again. 

"This  all  makes  a  mighty  good  story  for  me — 
almost  as  good  as  another  fight.  Folks  like  to  read 
that  kind  of  thing.  They'd  shed  more  tears  over 
that  lost  child  than  they  would  over  a  dozen  dead 
scouts  killed  in  an  open  fight — and  men  who  had  fam- 
ilies depending  on  them,  at  that!  I'm  going  to  write 
it  up  to-night.  Yes,  sir,  it  makes  a  mighty  neat  little 
story  for  the  fine  women  who  read  that  London 
paper  to  dim  their  fashionable  eyes  over.  That's 
just  the  place  for  it!"  soliloquized  Gilroy. 

"But  it  isn't  quite  so  fine  and  easy  when  you're 
right  in  it  yourself,  eh?"  he  added.  Not  to  speak  of! 
This  is  the  backaching  end  of  the  business  that 
makes  a  fellow  willing  to  forget  all  about  being  a 
hero  for  the  sake  of  stretching  out  in  a  blanket  and 
having  eight  hours  of  solid  sleep  ahead  of  hinr 
Well — now  you  just  turn  in  and  I'll  look  after  the 
horses  and  everything  else.  All  you've  got  to  do  is 
to  rest  your  bones." 

This  announcement  was  very  comforting  to  Rod- 
ney, who  wasted  no  time  in  trying  to  realize  that  he 
was  a  real  hero,  and  had  actually  rescued  a  little 
girl  from  a  fearful  death.  It  was  not  at  all  as  he 
had  imagined  the  boy  heroes,  in  the  stories  he  had 
read,  felt.  He  was  almost  as  much  interested  in  the 
way  in  which  Gilroy  looked  at  the  incident,  as  in 
his  personal  part  in  it.  He  thought  the  matter  all 
•ovei,  as  he  opened  his  blanket  and  stretched  out  his 


A   FORAGING   EXPEDITION. 


83 


tired  limbs,  and  determined  to  read  the  papers  care- 
fully and  to  ask  Gilroy  more  about  it,  at  the  first 
opportunity. 

AlthouL]^h  these  reflections  were  made  when  his 
eyes  were  heavy  with  on-coming  sleep,  they  marked 
what  Gilroy  afterwards  termed  the  beginning  of 
"getting  his  newspaper-eyes  open."  From  that 
time  he  saw  everything  more  or  less  in  the  light  of 
its  news  value.  Everything  became  less  to  him  in 
itself —  in  its  own  actuality —  and  he  mentally  sorted 
it  into  "material,"  or  rejected  it  because  of  its  fail- 
ure to  be  "material."  This  way  of  looking  at  things, 
he  found,  had  its  pleasant  and  its  unpleasant  side. 

"Rather  slim  layout,  isn't  it?"  remarked  Gilroy, 
as  he  surveyed  the  breakfast  on  the  following 
morning. 

Rodney  was  somewhat  ashamed  to  look  the 
array  of  chicken-bones  "in  the  face,"  for  they  were 
gaunt  witnesses  of  the  enormity  of  his  appetite  on 
the  preceding  evening. 

"I'll  tell  you  what's  the  matter.  We've  got  to 
hustle  around  and  scrape  up  something  to  eat,  right 
away  quick,  or  play  'poor  Indian'  and  ghten  up 
our  belts.  We're  in  the  enemy's  C(  itry,  you 
know,  and  'all's  fair  in  love  or  war' —  at  least  so  far 
as  hen-roosts  and  pig  pens  are  concern  d." 

"But  isn't  foraging  forbidden?  I  )ught  there 
was  such  an  order,"  answered  Rodne\  . 

"Oh,  yes;  there's  an  order  out  to  that  effec  '\:^  a 
matter  of  course;  but  nobody's  expected  to  pay  any 
attention   to   it.     I'll    warrant   more   than   half   the 


I 


84 


THE   YOUNG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


rations  of  fresh  meat  that  comes  from  the  commis- 
sary are  raised  about  here,  and  aren't  paid  for 
either.  Of  course,  the  commanders  may  not  know 
it —  but  I  don't  imagine  they  Lay  awake  nights 
worrying  about  !  Just  you  come  out  with  me  and 
I'll  show  you  how  the  trick's  done." 

While  inwardly  debating  the  right  and  wrong  of 
this  system  of  "looting"  from  the  enemy,  Rodney 
followed  Gilroy  in  a  saunter  about  the  camp. 

"  There  comes  one  of  the  boys  with  a  jag  of  hay. 
Now  we'll  just  lay  low  behind  these  bushes  and  see 
him  unload." 

They  did  so. 

The  scout  carelessly  tossed  off  the  upper  por- 
tion of  the  hay,  then  glanced  sharply  about  to  see  if 
he  was  observ^ed.  The  coast  seemed  to  be  clear, 
and  he  made  a  quick  thrust  '^vlth  his  arm  into  the 
remainder  of  the  hay,  anrl  jerked  out  a  sucking 
pig,  which  had  evidently  suffered  death  from 
the  scout's  knife,  for  it  was  daubed  with  fresh 
blood. 

With  a  dcit  fling  he  shot  the  roastling  under  the 
flap  of  his  tent. 

''  We'll  drop  in  on  that  fellow  in  about  twenty 
!  liniit  s,  and  if  he  don't  trot  out  some  of  that  roast, 
I'll  make  him  own  up  to  where  he  got  it,"  said  Gil- 
roy, as  they  wandered  aimlessly  on. 

"See!  There  comes  another  jag  of  hay.  Oh 
haying's  good  just  now.  Morses  have  to  have  hay, 
you  know,  if  the  men  do  go  hungry,"  laughed  Gil- 
roy, as  they  waited  for  the  scout  to  approach. 


A   FORAGING    EXPEDITION. 


85 


"Why,  that's  Lieutenant  Jolins!"  exclaimed  Rod- 
ney, as  the  man  came  nearer. 

"  That's  a  fact!"  responded  Gih'oy  with  elation, 
"  You  stay  here,  Rodney,  and  I'll  1^0  and  see  il"  I 
can  get  anythinf^  out  of  him.  If  he's  had  any  luck, 
I  know  he'll  tell  me  where  to  look  for  some  of  the 
same  kind  of  hay." 

In  a  few  moments  he  n  turned  to  where  he  had 
left  Rodney,  and  said: 

"  We're  all  right!  I  told  you  the  lieutenant 
would  share  up  with  his  information.  When  it  be- 
gins to  get  a  little  dark,  we'll  make  an  effort  to  keep 
the  wolf  from  the  door." 

During  the  day,  the  thoughts  of  the  proposed 
foraging  expedition  was  constan^^'y  in  Rodne)''s 
mind,  and  his  rcrtections  upon  it  v.  -!\.  by  no  means 
pleasant  or  satisfactoiy.  Although  he  had  heard 
some  of  the  scouts  advance  what  seemed,  at  the 
time,  like  very  reasonable  and  logical  arguments  in 
support  of  the  justice  of  an  army  living  upon  the 
products  of  a  people  in  active  rebellion  and  war- 
fare against  the  government,  he  could  not  help  feel- 
ing that  it  was  a  cruel  and  pitiable  thing  to  take  the 
cattle,  pigs  and  poultry  without  recompense  from 
the  poor  women,  Vviio  must  starve  when  these  scanty 
possessions  were  gone. 

He  at  last  reached  the  conclusion,  that  the  only 
circumstances  under  which  foraging  was  justifiable, 
were  when  those  from  whom  the  property  was 
looted  were  in  comfortable  circumstances,  in  which 
they  would  never  feel  in  need  of  the  property  taken. 


86 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


"  Docs  the  [)lacc  we're  1^(^115.,^  to  helont^  to  one 
of  the  poor  settlers,  or  to  some  one  wlio  will  never 
miss  what  we  are  i^oini^  alter?"  inciuired  Rodney, 
as  Gilroy  told  him  at  evening  to  get  up  their 
horses. 

"  Oh,  it's  one  of  the  largest  places  around  here. 
Tliey  could  afford  to  give  us  each  a  good  beef,  and 
throw  in  a  roasting  pig,  a  turkey  and  a  coui)le  of 
chickens,  and  never  know  the  difference,"  laughed 
Gilroy.  "And  besides,  they  knew  that  their  prop- 
erty was  suljjectto  confiscation  when  they  went  into 
the  fight.  They  accepted  it  as  one  of  the  inevitable 
conditions — now  let  them  abide  by  it." 

Although  this  partially  appeased  Rodney's  con- 
scientious scruples,  he  still  felt  disagreeably  like  a 
sneak-thief  and  plunderer  and  wishetl  himself  well 
out  of  the  business  a  dozen  times  before  the\'  ap- 
proached the  prosperous  farm  where  they  were  to 
put  their  plans  in  operation. 

"Now  you  go  up  to  the  house  and  buy  us  a  jag 
of  hay,  but  don't  pay  more  than  a  quarter  for  it  at 
the  most — not  if  you  have  to  talk  all  night  for  it. 
They'll  give  it  to  you  for  that  if  >'ou  hang  on  and 
beat  them  down  long  enough.  When  you  get 
through,  come  back  here." 

Rodney  went  to  the  house  wondering  that  Gilroy 
should  have  so  easily  abandoned  his  intention  to 
secure  the  supplies  without  bargain  and  sale. 

As  Gilroy  expected,  Rodney  was  greeted  by  the 
watch  do<r.  As  soon  as  he  heard  this  comfortable 
assurance  that  the  brute's  attentions  were  engaged 


A    FOKAGIXG    ILXI'EUITION. 


87 


with  Rodney,  Gilroy  tied  his  horse  and  made  a  short 
cut  "cross  lots"  to  tlie  sheep  fold. 

It  took  him  but  a  moment  to  select  a  coui^le  ol" 
choice  spring  lambs  and  make  them  victims  of  his 
knife  before  the  remainder  of  the  flock  was  scarcely 
aware  of  the  presence  of  an  invader. 

He  tied  vheir  heels  toj:^ethcr,  returned  to  his 
horse  and  hun<f  them  over  the  animal's  back. 

"I  guess  they'll  carry  all  right  there.  Now  for  a 
side-dish  of  chicken  or  turkey,  just  for  variety,"  he 
meditated,  as  he  retraced  his  steps  to  the  buildings. 

"That  looks  to  me  decidedly  like  the  hen-roost," 
he  again  soliloquized,  pushing  open  the  door. 

The  rooster  gave  a  low  note  of  alarm.  He 
paused — just  in  time  to  hear  voices  approaching. 

It  was  Rodney  and  the  hired  man  coming  for 
the  hay.     The  proprietor  was  with  Riei. 

Confound  it,  I'm  in  a  box  now!  That  boy's  too 
innocent  for  any  earthly  use!"  were  Gilroy's  inward 
exclamations  as  the  voices  grew  nearer. 

Fortunately  for  the  newspaper  man,  Rodney  had 
chanced  to  see  him  slip  in  the  hen  house,  while  the 
hired  man  was  taking  a  fresh  chew  of  tobacco  from 
his  pouch,  and  the  whole  truth  had  dawned  upon 
him.  He  quickly  determined  upon  a  desperate  ruse 
to  allow  Gilroy  chance  to  escape,  for  he  felt  sure 
that  the  dog  would  at  once  track  the  latter  to  his 
retreat  as  soon  as  it  struck  its  trail. 

"Hark!"  exclaimed  Rodney,  "there's  something 
the  matter  in  the  sheep  fold.  Do  you  suppose  any- 
one's trying  to  make  way  with  your  lambs?" 


'iMI 


88 


THE    VOUNT;    NKWSl'AI'EK    SCOUT. 


"Here,  Tiqc!"  was  the  man's  only  answer.  "Go 
take  care  of  the  sheep!" 

The  cU)L(  bounded  away  with  a  threatenini;  ^rowl 
toward  tlie  I'okl. 

"I'll  look  out  here  and  you  can  ^o  around  tiie 
other  side  of  the  barn,  there,"  ai^aiii  su<^i;ested  Rod- 
ney, with  a  presuniptory  decision  that  the  man 
instintly  accepted, 

lie  had  no  sooner  disappeared  around  the  corner 
of  the  barn  than  Rodney  stepped  close  to  the  hen 
house  door  and  called,  in  a  low  imdertonc,  to 
Gilroy:    . 

"Now  you  can  Qct  away  across  the  pasture  there. 
Hut  you'll  have  to  be  lively." 

"All  rii^ht!"  was  the  cpiiet  answer. 

A  moment  latei'  the  lusty  squawk  of  a  fowl  sent 
a  cold  chill  throui^^h  Rodney's  nerves.  But  the 
sound  was  quickly  nipped  into  an  abrupt  ".Lj-l-k"  as 
Gilroy's  hand  closed  its  grip  about  the  neck  of  the 
unfortunate  hen. 

"  Just  for  luck  !"  exclaimed  Gilroy,  dashing  out 
of  the  hen  house  door  and  flourishing  the  fowl  at 
Rodney,  as  he  brushed  past  him  and  leaped  the  fence. 

He  had  scarcel)-  gone  a  dozen  rods  beyond  the 
fence  when  the  dog,  followed  by  the  man,  were  seen 
running  from  the  fold. 

"Tiiere  he  goes!  There  he  goes  I "  shouted  Rod- 
ney, when  he  saw  that  the  man  had  caught  sight  of 
Gilroy's  retreating  figure. 

"You  follow  him  on  foot  and  I'll  go  round  on  my 
horse,"  called  Rodney. 


n 


A  FORA(;iNr.  K.\PL:nrriON. 


<^9 


This  served  to  delay  tlie  man  for  a  momcin  but 
not  the  (\o<^. 

Tlie  brute  huijjjcd  aliead,  utterinfj  a  fierce,  jay  at 
every  leap,  while  Rodney  mounted  his  hor^e  and 
galloi)ed  down  the  road  as  though  in  greatC'>t  haste 
to  cut  off  Gilroy's  retreat. 

Meantime  he  drew  his  revolver  from  its  holster 
and  prepared  to  open  fire  upon  the  do*,^  when  it 
should  seem  necessary. 

He  could  see  that  the  dog  was  gai.iing  upon 
Gilroy,  but  the  distance  between  himself  and  the 
dog  was  to(j  great  for  him  to  hope  for  any  effect 
with  his  revolver. 

A  sudden  splash,  followed  by  a  loud  (jxclamation, 
told  Rodney  that  his  partner-in-crimc  had  suffered 
some  sort  of  a  mishap. 

There  was  evidently  no  time  to  lose,  and  Rodney 
fired  a  trio  of  shots  in  rapid  succession  at  the  dog. 
One  of  these  evidently  chanced  to  take  effect,  foi 
dog  gave  a  howl  of  pain  and  the  hiicd-maii  yelled: 

'*  Let  the  feller  go!  Let  him  g'-> — or  you'll  kill 
the  dog  an'  me  too." 

The  terrified  farm  hand  then  called  the   dog  off, 
and  the  courageous  brute  went  limping  unwillingly 
back  to  a  place  of  safety. 

As  the  hired  man  disappeared  into  the  distant 
shadows,  Rodney  hitched  Pink-eye  and  hastened  to 
Gilroy's  assistance. 

"  Look  out !  "  exclaimed  the  latter,  "  Don't  you 
get  into  the  same  slew  hole  that  I'm  stuck  in.  I'm 
most  up  to  my  neck  here  !  " 


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Photographic 

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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


M 


90  THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 

"  But  I'm  ^oincj  throuj^li,  just   the   same!     And 
I've  j^ot  that   chicken   all    ri^ht,  too! — 'live  or  die, 


sin 


k  or 


swim,  survive  or  pcnsl 


Rodney  could  not  contain  his  amusement  at  the 
plij^ht  that  Gilroy  presented  on  at  last  making  nis 
way  on  to  dry  land. 

He  had  fallen  flat  into  the  mire,  and  the  entire 
front  of  his  person  was  dripping  with  the  thick, 
black  grime  of  the  bog. 

Gilroy  surveyed  himself  for  a  moment,  and  then 
joined  Rodney  in  merriment  at  his  own  expense. 

"You  must  have  swallowed  considerable  of  it," 
said  Rodney. 

"  Yes,"  responded  Gilroy,    "  I    bit   the    mud  but 

ust  be  LTcttinc:   nut  of 


not  the    dust.       Now    we    m 
this." 

"Mow's    that    for    high?"   he   again  exclaimed 
pointing  with  pride  at  the  two  lambs  hiying  in  front 


o 


f  h 


IS  sa 


ddle. 


and  enjoyin 


<r 


Rod 


ncy  s  surprise 


at  th( 


sight. 

When  they  were  again  in  their  own  tent,  Gilroy 
retired,  while  Rodney  cleaned  his  clothes  and 
dressed  the  lambs  and  chicken,  frequently  stopping 
to  shake  with  laughter  at  the  recollection  of  the 
pitiable  figure  which  the  representative  of  the 
Toronto  and  London  press  presented  as  he  crawled 
out  of  the  mire  of  the  bog,  still  holding  with  des- 
perate grip  to  his  looted  chicken. 

In  the  morning,  as  the  fragrance  of  the  frying 
lamb  chops  which  Rodney  was  turning  in  the  skillet 
greeted  Gilroy,  the  former  suggested: 


;d 


I  lii ' 


s 
t 


n 
n 
ti 


c; 
d 
h 

n 

hi 
fa 
tt 


A   FORAGING    EXPEDITION. 


91 


"  Wouldn't  that  make  a  mighty  good  little  story 
for  the  fine  ladies  of  London  to  read — just  the  thing 
they  would  like  to  shed  their  tears  over?  " 

"  Yes,"  quickly  replied  Gilroy;  "Exactly!  Hut 
I  guess  I'll  tell  it  on  one  of  the  other  boys — just  for 
a  change." 

They  would  have  exchanged  more  pleasantries 
over  their  ludicrous  adventure  had  not  a  scout  inter- 
rupted them  with  the  news  that  the  advance  mes- 
senger of  the  reinforcements  had  arrived,  and  that 
the  general  had  issued  orders  to  break  camp  and 
proceed  at  once  upon  Batosch. 

"  That  means  business,  and  lots  of  it,  too,"  com- 
mented Gilroy.  I  miss  my  guess  if  we  don't  see 
more  hard  fighting  there  than  in  all  the  rest  of  the 
trip;  for  that's  Kiel's  stronghold. 

This  opinion  seemed  to  be  shared  by  the  entire 
camp,  for  even  the  coolest  men  betrayed  a  greater 
degree  of  anticipation  and  excitement  than  Rodney 
had  ever  seen  them  show  before. 

When  Rodney  remarked  this  fact  to  Gilroy,  he 
replied: 

"  Certainly.  You  see  Riel  is  believed  to  be  there 
himself,  and  every  man,  especially  of  the  scouts, 
fancies  that  he  may  stand  some  chance  to  capture 
the  big  rebel  leader  and  cover  himself  with  glory." 


CHAPTER  IX. 


AN    FXniAN    AMBUSH. 


THE  territory  from  Eish  Creek  to  Ratosch  was 
deprcs.sini;ly  barren  and  desolate,  much  of  it 
having  been  so  burned  over  that  the  horses  could 
find  only  stray  patches  of  thinly  sprouting  grass. 

The  grazing  was  even  more  scant  than  along  any 
portion  of  their  previous  march  from  Ft.  Qu'Appellc. 

This  kind  of  fare  had  told  perceptibly  upon  the 
horses,  and  each  day  brought  their  ribs  into  clearer 
prominence. 

ik-eye,  however,  was  an  exception  to  this  rule, 
for  he  had  actually  "picked  up"  flesh  upon  camp 
diet.  For  a  time  this  was  a  puzzle  to  Rodney,  but 
the  mystery  was  cleared  up  one  morning  when  he 
chanced  to  find  the  animal  smelling  about  the  ashes 
of  an  extinct  camp  fire  and  picking  up  bits  of  the 
refuse  meat,  which  he  devoured  as  greedily  as  wolv- 
erine. 

This  thrifty  propensity  of  his  shaganappy,  how- 
ever, came  very  near  getting  Rodney  into  trouble. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  second  day  out  from 
Fish  Creek,  Rodney  and  Gilroy  were  awakened  by  a 
loud  voice  at  the  door  of  their  tent. 

There  stood   a  scout,  with  old  Pin-keye  in  tow. 

The  man  was  in  anything  but  an  amiable  mood 
and  breathed  out  threatenings  of  slaughter  against 

92 


tti: 


AN    INPl'.^N    AMBUSH. 


93 


the  shap^anappy  provided  Rodney  did  not,  in  future, 
keep  him  securely  tethered  instead  of  allowinj^j  the 
frce(h)ni  of  the  canip. 

"  Well,  wliat's  the  matter?  Why  don't  you  tell 
us  what  you're  kicking  about?"  demanded  Gilroy,  of 
the  excited  scout. 

"  We've  been  missini^  candles  from  our  tent 
several  times,  of  late,  until  I  ^ot  tired  of  it  and  made 
up  my  mind  to  put  a  stop  to  it.  So  last  ni^^jht,  after 
I  had  just  got  a  fresh  ration  of  them,  I  put  the 
package  under  my  pillow,  which  was  close  against 
the  side  of  the  tent.  About  half  an  hour  ago  I  was 
awakened  by  something  pulling  at  my  hair.  Frag- 
ments of  the  paper  in  which  the  candles  had  been 
wrapped  were  laying  about  where  my  head  had 
rested;  but  the  candles  were  gone — every  last  one  of 
'em!  I  was  sure  that  it  was  the  work  of  some  pilfer- 
ing animal.  Jumping  to  my  feet,  I  grabbed  my  rifle 
and  rushed  out  of  the  tent.  Just  outside  of  where  I 
had  been  laying  stood  this  spotted  old  reprobate, 
munching  the  remains  of  that  dozen  candles.  I 
grabbed  up  a  stick,  that  happened  to  be  laying  handy 
by,  and  was  going  to  lay  it  onto  the  thief  when 
the  brute  turned  its  heels  toward  me,  laid  back  his 
ears  and  rolled  his  pink  eyes  in  a  way  that  made  me 
conclude  not  to  meddle  with  him.  After  he  had 
finished  his  meal  he  allowed  me  to  put  a  tether  on 
him  and  lead  him  here.  If  he'd  nipped  a  little  closer 
that  time  he'd  have  lifted  my  whole  scalp,  instead 
of  just  taking  a  stray  tuft  out  of  my  hair." 

Gilroy  made  no  attempt   to   conceal  his  amuse- 


94 


THE    YOUNG   NEVVStArER     SCOUT. 


ment  at  the  fellow's  ludicrous  frifjht,  and  laughed  to 
his  face  so  heartily  that  the  offended  scout  conclud- 
ed to  make  the  best  of  it,  and  joined  Gilroy  and 
Rodney  in  their  fun. 

"Now  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,"  promptly 
responded  Gilroy,  as  the  man  was  about  to  leave. 
"That  horse  is  going  to  have  his  liberty  the  same  as 
the  others;  and  if  he's  smart  enough  to  forage  for 
himself,  all  right.  If  you  makj  no  more  complaint 
about  the  horse,  well  and  good;  but  if  you  want  to 
make  any  bother  I'll  give  the  whole  thing  away  to 
the  boys  and  they'll  get  more  comfort  out  of  it  than 
you  will—  you  may  depend  upon  that." 

The  man  seemed  to  take  the  same  view  of  the 
matter,  after  a  moment's  reflection,   for  he  replied: 

"All  right.     We'll  let  it  drop  at  that." 

"He'd  better!  "  was  Gilroy 's  comment  to  Rodney, 
as  the  scout  turned  upon  his  heel  and  walked  away, 
"for  if  the  boys  once  get  hold  of  that  they'll  call 
him  'candles'  till  the  war's  over,  and  will  make  life 
a  burden  to  him  generally. 

"Here  we  are!  See  the  steeple  of  the  old 
church!  And  down  in  the  valley  beyond  is  Batosch" 
exclaimed  Gilroy  to  Rodney,  on  the  third  day's 
march  from  Fish  Creek. 

The  quaint  old  cathedral  stood  on  the  high 
bank,  overlooking  the  village,  which  nestled  close 
to  the  turbid  Saskatchewan. 

The  troops  took  a  position  on  the  eminence  to 
the  left  of  the  church,  while  almost  in  front  of  them 


AN    INDIAN    AMBUSH. 


95 


was  a  deep  ravine,  which  opened  into  the  valley 
near  the  villaj^e. 

Adjacent  to  the  church  was  the  old  burial  ground, 
with  its  picturesque  cross  standing  guard  over  its 
consecrated  soil. 

Interest  was  quickly  centered  upon  the  array  of 
wigwams  which  stood  in  plain  view  upon  the  other 
bank  of  the  Saskatchewan,  opposite  the  town. 

Before  the  troops  had  fairly  pitched  camp  an 
eighteen-pound  gun  was  trained  upon  the  Indian 
encampment,  and  poured  a  volley  of  shells  into  it. 
This  had  an  instant  and  telling  effect.  Squaws, 
bearing  papooses  and  every  sort  of  domestic  utens-l, 
could  be  seen  retreating  in  the  greatest  confusion. 

Rodney  also  noticed  that  there  were  but  few 
men  to  be  seen,  and  those  did  not  have  on  their  war 
paint. 

He  took  this  as  a  sign  that  the  warriors  were 
absent  in  some  other  section,  and  he  was  almost 
disappointed  at  the  thought  that  they  would  see 
nothing  of  Indian  fighting. 

Meantime,  the  commanders  were  taking  a  care- 
ful survey  of  the  land. 

"A  few  of  you  scouts  go  down  into  the  ravine 
and  see  if  it's  occupied,"  was  the  general's  command. 

"Want  to  go  with  'em?"  said  Gilroy,  turning  to 
Rodney. 

"Yes,"  was  the  boy's  eager  reply. 

"I  don't  believe  there's  any  particular  danger — 
at  least,  the  captain  don't  seem  to  think  there  is. 
We'll  chance  it  anyway." 


96 


THE    YUUNCi    NKWSrAI'KK     SCOU  l". 


I'  ■' 


Accordini^ly  tlicy  juiiicil  tlic  little  scjuad  of 
scouts,  which  dcscciulcd  into  the  wooded  ravine. 
It  seemed  as  quiet  and  deserted  save  for  the  birds 
u'hicli  occasionally  chirped  and  fluttered  in  the 
branches. 

Lieutenant  Johns  was  too  skillful  a  scout,  how- 
ever, to  proceed  without  due  caution;  and  he  had 
his  men  hitch  their  ponies  in  a  sheltered  spot, 
accessible  to  the  trail  leadinj^  back  to  camp. 

Then  they  carefully  picked  their  way  alon^ 
through  the  thick  timber  without  exchanging  a  word 
with  each  other. 

After  exploring  the  portion  of  the  ravine  to- 
ward the  village,  they  retraced  their  course,  passed 
their  horses,  and  reconnoitcred  a  short  distance  in 
the  opposite  direction. 

Rodney  thought  how  splendidly  romantic  and 
exciting  it  was  to  be  stealing  stealthily  through  the 
woods,  in  search  of  a  hidden  foe,  in  real  warfare;  and 
he  resolved  to  give  the  boys  back  at  the  fort,  a  full 
account  of  the  experience.  Just  as  he  was  picturing 
how  intently  they  would  listen  to  his  recital,  he 
caught  sight  of  a  single  figure  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  ravine. 

He  touched  Gilroy's  arm  and  pointed  at  the 
sentinel. 

At  that  moment  the  command  echoed  through 
the  ravine: 

♦•Retire  :  scouts  !" 

How  warlike  it  sounded,  and  how  it  would  ap- 
peal to  the  boys! 


AN    INDIAN   AMBUSH. 


97 


The  little  company  of  scouts  wheeled  about,  and 
were  leisurely  walking'  toward  their  horses,  when 
suddenly,  like  an  idectric  shock,  the  first  war-cry  ot 
Indians  that  Rodney  had  ever  heard,  smote  his 
ears,  and  made  him  chill  and  quiver  with  excite- 
ment. 

•'  Down!  And  break  for  your  horses!"  was  the 
lieutenant's  informal  order. 

There  was  small  need  for  a  command  to  crouch 
low,  for  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  would  have 
dictated  that,  as  the  crack  of  rifles  from  the  am- 
bush, in  the  thickest  portion  of  the  timber,  followed 
the  war-cry. 

The  bullets  whizzed  and  screamed  over  the  heads 
of  the  scouts,  and  Rodney,  for  an  instant,  fancied 
himself  wounded,  as  a  ball  tore  a  splinter  from  a 
dry  stub  close  beside  him,  hurled  it  against  his  arm. 

In  his  previous  adventures,  Rodney  had  not 
had  the  feeling  that  he  would  be  shot.  But  even 
after  discovering  that  it  was  a  harmless  sliver,  in- 
stead of  a  ball,  which  had  brushed  against  his  arm, 
he  experienced,  for  some  moments,  the  keenest  fear. 
It  seemed  to  him,  as  he  crouched  down  and  dodged 
from  the  cover  of  one  t»'ee  to  another,  that  he  would 
surely  be  the  victim,  of  one  of  the  balls  which 
poured  from  the  invisible  guns  of  the  hidden  sav- 
ages, whose  ghastly  war-cry  still  mingled  with  the 
crackling  discharge  of  their  rifles. 

This  fear  intensified  into  a  morbid  despair  when 
he  saw  that  to  reach  their  horses,  they  must  leave 
he  cover  of  the  timber,  and  cross   an   open   which 


98 


THE   YOUNG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


!|j«i;;i: 


was  only  sparsely  studded  witli  clumps  of  small 
bushes  and  undergrowth. 

Upon  comiuj^  to  this  clearirij^,  Lieutenant  Johns, 
who  was  in  the  lead,  dropped  upon  his  hands  and 
knees,  snatched  his  knife  from  his  belt,  placed  it  be- 
tween his  teeth,  and  crawled  rapidly  over  the  rough 
ground  toward  the  horses. 

Kvery  member  of  the  party  instantly  followed 
his  example. 

Mow  slowly  the  crawling  line  seemed  to  move! 
As  a  bullet  buried  itself  in  the  ground  a  few  feet 
beyond  him,  the  likeness  of  their  situation,  to  the 
perils  which  he  had  encountered  in  nightmares,  came 
to  him,  but  without  that  second-consciousness  which 
always  gave  him  in  the  dreams,  a  comforting  though 
shadowy  assurance  that  he  would  waken  into  safety 
just  before  the  fatal  calamity  should  overtake 
him. 

But  this  feeling  vanished  when  he  reached  the 
tree  to  which  old  Pink-eye  was  hitched,  cut  the  strap 
and  leaped  into  the  saddle. 

Many  of  the  other  horses  were  plunging  so 
furiously  that  their  owners  could  scarcely  release 
and  mount  them;  consequently  Rodney  was  among 
those  who  lead  the  plunge  up  the  trail,  almost  di- 
rectly in  front  of  the  Indians'  ambush. 

In  the  saddle,  with  his  tried  and  faithful  horse 
under  him,  leaping  forward  with  the  swift  strides 
that  had  carried  him  into  safety  on  other  occasions 
of  danger,  his  old  courage  returned  to  him,  and  he 
was  conscious  of  no  little  shame   at  the  thought  of 


AN   INDIAN   AMiiUSII. 


99 


the   fear  which    he   had  entertained  when  crawlinj^ 
behind  the  bushes. 

It  was  a  more  desperate  undertaking  to  attempt 
to  run  the  j^auntlet  ol  the  Indians'  rifle-pits,  when 
upon  their  horses  and  fully  exposed  to  their  fire, 
than  it  had  been  to  skulk  behind  the  trees  and 
bushes;  but  Rodney  did  not  shrink  from  the  "har^e. 

The  little  posse  of  scouts  had  t^one  but  a  lew 
rods,  and  had  still  the  most  dan^^erous  part  of  their 
ride  before  them,  when  another  surprise  ^neeted 
them. 

It  was  the  belching  of  the  gatling  gun  under 
charge  of  Captain  Young.  lie  pushed  steadily  for- 
ward to  the  relief  of  the  scouts,  until  in  the  very 
face  of  the  savages.  The  constant  and  deadly  fire 
of  the  gatling  accomplished  the  captain's  purpose 
by  throwing  the  Indians  into  momentary  confusion, 
in  the  interval  of  which  the  scouts  made  a  successful 
dash  past  the  braves  into  the  shelter  of  the  timber 
and  up  the  trail,  where  they  soon  joined  the  remain- 
der of  their  company. 

"Well,  we're  out  of  the  woods  this  time!"  ex- 
claimed Lieutenant  Johns  to  Captain  French,  as 
they  rode  together  toward  the  general's  head- 
quarters. 

•'  Yes,"  replied  the  latter,  "but  we've  got  to  fight 
it  out  there  sooner  or  later,  for  the  enemy  must  be 
dislodged  from  that  ravine  before  we  can  take  the 
town.  And  it'll  be  a  nasty  fight,  too,  for  it's  just  the 
place  that  suits  a  sneaking  Indian  to  do  his  best 
work  in.     He  can  hide  in  the  thick  timber  and  shoot 


nil 

iiP' 

!| 

1  ! 


y^hm 


^M^ 


ICX) 


THE   YOUNG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


without  being  seen — and  that's  meat  to  a  Red  skin." 
This  prophecy  in  regard  to  another  engagement 
in  the  ravine  was  verified  not  long  after  by  the  com- 
mand of  Colonel  Williams: 

"  You  scouts  go  down  yonder  and  do  some  good." 
Meantime  Rodney  had  been  suffering  from  a 
repentant  recollection  of  his  fright,  which  seemed  to 
him,  upon  calm  and  conscientious  self-examination, 
so  much  like  outright  cowardice  that  he  deter- 
mined to  retrieve  his  self-respect  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity. 

He  therefore  hailed  the  order  to  again  enter  the 
ravine  with  more  of  joy  than  regret. 


■;V'I'   ■■■■ 


CHAPTER  X. 


UNDER    DOUBLE    FIRE. 


RODNEY'S  resolutions  to  acquire  himself  with 
courage  was  called  into  severe  and  immediate 
action,  for  in  order  to  reach  the  place  of  vantage 
necessary  to  fire  with  any  effect  upon  the  Indians, 
the  scouts  were  obliged  to  descend  into  the  ravine 
in  the  face  of  a  steady  fire  from  the  secreted 
Indians,  whose  rifle  pits  were  carefully  planted 
through  the  thickest  of  the  timber  and  up  the  steep 
bank  on  the  opposite  side. 

To  deliberately  advance  against  such  a  sure  and 
steady  fire  without  the  opportunity  to  return  a  single 
shot  required  the  most  unflinching  kind  of  courage. 

The  Indians  had  built  their  rifle  pits  with  such 
cunning  and  skill  that  they  could  fire  from  out  nar- 
row cracks  and  through  small  crevices  without  ex- 
posing themselves  in  the  least. 

When  at  last  Captain  French  had  succeeded  in 
leading  his  men  to  the  position  from  which  he  hoped 
to  secure  at  least  a  partial  view  of  the  enemy,  he 
found  himself  foiled  and  disji^jpointed.  Net  a  single 
Indian  could  be  seen.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
scouts  were  in  direct  range  for  the  rifles  of  the 
Indians. 

Each  man  picked  out  the  largest  tree  or  stump 
that  was  accessible  and  stationed  himself  behind  it. 

101 


:"  !• 


102 


THE   YOUNG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


if:-;' 


:'i*Vi)i 


■f,t3 


Some  were  fortunate  enough  to  get   behind    fallen 
trees  which  formed  excellent  breastworks. 

Among  these  were  Gilroy  and  Rodney. 

They  had  scarcely  settled  down  comfortably  be- 
hind their  natural  fortification  when  Gilroy  began  to 
shake  with  laughter.  Pointing  to  their  right  he  ex- 
claimed, between  paroxysms  of  mirth. 

"Just  look  at  'The  Fat  Man  From  Assinaboia,' 
over  there  trying  to  screen  himself  behind  the  small- 
est tree  in  the  whole  grove.  There's  rhe  irony  of 
fate  for  you!  The  biggest,  broadest,  fattest  man  in 
the  whole  company  pitted  behind  a  tree  that  would 
hardly  shelter  the  slimest  man  in  the  camp!  See  him 
twist  and  turn  to  see  whether  he  will  expose  the 
narrowest  margin  of  himself  when  standing  edge- 
wise or  squarely  facing  the  enemy!" 

Even  in  the  presence  of  the  danger  that  they  and  the 
fleshy  scout  were  facing,  Gilroy  and  Rodney  laughed 
at  the  fellow's  predicament  until  they  were  sore. 

When  their  first  amusement  at  the  ridiculous 
spectacle  was  over  Gilroy  added  seriously  : 

"They'll  hit  him  yet  if  he  don't  get  out  of  there. 
It's  simply  a  question  ot  the  tree  being  too 
narrow  and  the  man  too  wide.  He  might  better 
drop  and  crawl  for  a  better  shelter." 

Rodney's  attention  was  next  drawn  to  a  party  ot 
half-a-dozen  scouts  who,  like  Gilroy  and  himself, 
had  been  lucky  enough  to  get  behind  a  large,  pros- 
trate tree. 

•'See!  What  are  they  doing  there?"  inquired 
Rodney. 


UNDER    DOUBLE    FIRE. 


103 

few 


Gilroy  watched  the  men   in  silence   for  a 
moments  and  then  replied  : 

"They're  passing  Captain  Young's  cap  from  one  to 
another  in  order  to  fool  the  Indians.  He  did  some 
tall  fighting  against  them  in  putting  down  the  Min- 
nesota uprising,  and  they  remember  him  and  arc 
after  his  head.  You  just  notice  that  whenever  that 
cap  bobs  up  it  draws  the  fire  of  the  Indians  every  time. 

It  required  but  a  brief  observation  to  demonstrate 
this  to  Rodney. 

The  scouts  had  fired  but  few  shots,  for  the  Red- 
skins were  so  well  concealed  that  it  was  only  at  rare 
intervals  that  the  slightest  glimpse  of  them  was  to 
be  had. 

At  last  the  delay  seemed  to  become  intolerable 
to  the  scouts,  who  were  subjected  to  a  constant  fusil- 
lade from  the  Indians.  This  helpless  and  impotent 
situation  seemed  to  prey  especially  upon  the  impet- 
uous Irish  nature  of  Captain  French,  who  was 
kneeling  behind  a  stump.  Exasperated  and  mad- 
dened to  the  pitch  of  frenzy,  the  dashing  captain 
leaped  from  his  shelter  and  stood  out  in  fair  view 
while  he  shook  his  fist  at  the  Indians,  and  with  the 
strongest  oaths  in  his  soldier's  vocabulary  called 
upon  the  Indians  to  come  out  and  fight  like  men. 

Talk  about  there  not  being  an  Irish  language  ! 
Just  listen  to  that,  will  you!"  exclaimed  Gilroy, 
'*  there  isn't  a  pilot  on  the  Mississippi  who  could 
pay  that  back  in  like  coin  !  " 

The  Captain's  reckless  exposure  was  the  signal 
for  a  rattling  discharge  of  rifles  from  the  pits. 


■:'V 


104 


THE    YOUNG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


m 


•'  Well  if  that  don't  beat  all  the  fool  things  that  I 
ever  saw  ! "  commented  Gilroy,  as  the  Captain 
at  last  dropped  behind  his  stump,  unharmed.  "  I 
should  have  thought  he  would  have  a  dozen  bullets 
in  him  by  this  time." 

Rodney's  thoughts  were  divided  between  specu- 
lations upon  the  almost  miraculous  escape  of  the  fool- 
hardy man  and  wondering  how  long  they  would  be 
held  in  so  exasperating  a  position,  when  the  shrill 
scream  of  a  ball  made  both  Gilroy  and  himself 
instinctively  dudge  down  closer  to  the  ground. 

Without  saying  a  word  Rodney  placed  his  finger 
beside  the  spot  where  a  bullet  from  behind  them 
had  imbedded  itself  in  the  near  surface  of  the  log  not 
a  foot  from  cither  of  them. 

"  Great  Heavens!  our  troops  up  in  the  old  grave 
yard  are  taking  us  for  half  breeds!  That  comes  of 
scouts  dressing  like  heathens.  We'll  have  to  be  get- 
ting out  of  here  lively  or  there  won't  be  enough  left 
of  us  to  tell  the  tale!" 

This  conviction  must  have  revealed  itself  almost 
simultaneously  to  the  Captain's,  for  the  command  to 
retreat  was  soon  sounded. 

As  Rodney  scrambled  to  his  feet  he  heard  a  sharp 
cry  of  pain  near  at  hand  followed  by  the  exclamation: 

"I've  got  it,  boys!  " 

"  Where  is  the  fellow?  "  inquired  Gilroy  as  they 
paused  and  looked  about  them. 

"There  he '.3 — the  fat  man!"  answered  Rodney, 
pointing  to  the  prostrate  man  who  was  endeavoring 
to  crawl  toward  them. 


th 

cnc 

th( 


,1^! 
'i.i 


UNDER    DOUBLE    FIRE. 


105 


"Here!  We  must  carry  him  on  our  rifles — 
this  way  You  go  to  his  feet  and  I'll  carry  the  heavy 
end,  "  ordered  Gilroy,  as  he  slipped  the  guns  under 
the  wounded  man. 

"Now  up  with  him.  Hee-o-hee!"  continued  Gil- 
roy as  though  directing  a  gang  of  men  at  a  barn 
raising 

They  staggered  forward  with  their  heavy  burden, 
while  the  bullets  from  both  directions  were  singing 
over  their  heads. 

"  Can  you  hold  out  a  little  longer — just  'till  we 
catch  up  on  the  rest  of  the  lads  a  little  more  ? "  called 
back  Gilroy  from  his  position  in  advance. 

Although  he  had  begun  to  feel  that  he  could 
scarcely  go  another  rod  without  dropping  his 
end  of  the  burden,  the  question  put  new  strength 
into  Rodney's  limbs  and  he  answered  : 

"Yes,  I'm  all  right." 

,  "Wish     those     ninnies    up    in    the    grave-yard 

there   were   down   here   under  this  double  fire  for 

a  few  minutes!"  sententiously  observed  Gilroy  as  a 

ball  from  the  troops  whizzed  especially  close  to  them. 

After  going  several  rods  more,  Rodney  was  on 
the  point  of  telling  Gilroy  that  he  could  go  no 
further  without  a  pause  for  rest,  when  he  heard 
behind  him  the  same  fearful  war  whoop  of  the  Indians 
that  had  struck  such  terror  through  him  on  his  pre- 
vious adventure  in  the  ravine. 

"Lads!  the  Redskins  are  charging!  Drop  me  and 
save  yourselves — you  can't  save  me!"  suddenly 
exclaimed  the  wounded  comrade. 


^■5 

■,r., 


Wm 


I06  THE  YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT.       ( 

"No!" 

"Not  to  speak  of!"  were  the  answers  with  which 
Rodney  and  Gilroy  respectively  met  this  suggestion. 

As  the  other  scouts  heard  the  war  cry  of  the 
Indians  and  saw  that  they  were  coming  out  of  their 
hiding  places,  the  temptation  to  pause  in  their  retreat, 
under  the  double  fire  of  friend  in  front,  and  enemy 
in  the  rear,  to  turn  upon  the  Redskins  and  give  them 
a  few  shots,  was  too  strong  to  be  resisted. 

Seeing  Gilroy  and  Rodney  carrying  the  scout,  a 
squad  of  comrades  immediately  surrounded  them. 

Two  of  this  welcome  re-inforcement  relieved  the 
"newspaper  brigade"  of  its  burden,  while  the  others 
surrounded  the  disabled  man  to  defend  him  in  case 
the  Indians  pressed  their  charge. 

Captains  French  and  Young  stood  their  ground 
with  eager  resolution  so  long  as  an  Indian  had  the 
hardihood  to  expose  himself  in  the  least  to  their 
fire.  But  as  soon  as  the  savages  reached  the  ground 
originally  occupied  by  the  scouts,  where  the  balls 
from  the  troops  in  the  grave  yard  were  thickest,  they 
came  to  a  halt. 

Numerous  bullets  from  the  same  source,  how- 
ever, still  fell  among  the  government  scouts,  and 
the  order  to  retreat  was  again  reluctantly  given. 

The  dash  into  the  open  spot,  where  they  could 
be  plainly  seen  by  their  friends  in  the  grave-yard, 
was  the  most  disastrous  portion  of  the  retreat,  and 
for  a  few  moments  both  the  Indians  and  the  regulars 
poured  a  savage  fire  upon  them,  thinning  their  ranks 
as  rapidly  as  the  half-breeds  had  done  at  Fish  Creek. 


UNDER    DOUBLE    FIRE. 


107 


It  made  Rodney  sick  at  heart  to  listen  to  the 
groans  of  the  wounded,  and  the  awful  brutality  of 
war  came  home  to  him  with  a  force  that  left  a  lasting 
impression  upon  his  mind. 

He  stayed  near  the  disabled  man  whom  Gilroy 
and  he  had  carried,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  see- 
ing the  sufferer  borne  into  the  clearing  without 
further  injuries.  Their  entry  into  the  center  of  the 
open  had  the  effect  of  first  drawing  upon  them  a 
brisk  volley  from  the  grave-yard  detachment. 
Although  it  was  of  but  momentary  duration,  it  made 
sad  havoc  among  the  scouts;  but  the  abruptness  with 
which  the  firing  ceased,  told  the  unfortunate  com- 
pany in  the  ravine  that  the  troops  had  at  last  identi- 
fied them  as  friends  and  that  the  principal  danger 
was  now  over. 

Rodney  expected  that  the  scouts  would  hold  the 
occupants  of  the  grave-yard  to  strictest  account  and 
regard  them  with  a  bitter  enmity;  but  he  discovered 
his  mistake  as  soon  as  the  two  parties  met. 

The  scouts  accepted  the  mistake  as  a  very  natural 
one,  for  their  dress  was  similar  to  that  of  the  half- 
breeds,  and  their  faces  could  not  have  been  distin- 
guishable from  so  great  a  distance. 

"  It's  hard  enough  to  be  under  one  fire,  but  when 

it  comes  to  having  friends  double  it,  that's  a  little 

more  than  I  bargained  for,  and  I   don't   propose  to 

be  caught  in  that  kind  of  a  trap  again — not  if  I  know 

it!"    good-naturedly    grumbled   Gilroy,  as  he   and 

Rodney  sat  about  their  camp-fire,  over  which  their 

supper  was  cooking,  that  evening. 
8 


io8 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


Iiiiiiiil'ii' 


4  -i. 


•J,-;;; 

i'i' 

M 

jjyjift 

li: 

1 

"  But  you  wouldn't  know  it,  in  the  first  place,  and 
if  you  did,  it  wouldn't  be  like  you  to  keep  out  of  any 
fight,  no  matter  how  dangerous,"  replied  Rodney. 

Gilroy  laughed  at  this  outspoken  remark  in  a  way 
which  indicated  his  pleasure,  both  at  Rodney's 
candor  and  the  compliment  to  his  courage,  which 
the  lad's  remark  implied. 

The  difference  in  position,  age  and  experience 
between  the  boy  and  his  employer  had  rapidly 
diminished  under  the  close  intimacy  of  camp  life  and 
mutual  dangers  which  they  had  shared,  until  both 
seemed  to  forget  their  business  relations  and  become 
only  companions.  This  was  the  more  possible  from 
the  fact  that  Gilroy  retained  his  boyishness  to  an 
unusual  degree,  while  Rodney  was  daily  making 
strides  of  sudden  advancement  in  wordly  experience. 


CHAPTER   XI. 


CAM!'     SCENES. 


HOW  would  you  like  to  come  along  with  me 
over  to  the  captain's  ten  '  I'm  going  for  a 
little  talk  with  him  on  the  general  state  of  things 
before  writing  up  my  account  of  to-day's  engage- 
ment." 

''Certainly;  I  would  like  to  very  much,  if  it 
would  not  be  an  intrusion,"  Rodney  answered  eager- 
ly, for  despite  the  exciting  activities  about  him,  the 
boy's  interest  had  been  thoroughly  aroused  upon 
the  question  of  newspaper  work,  and  his  mind  was 
keenly  alert  to  grasp  every  fresh  detail  concerning 
it.  He  had  constantly  cherished  since  listening  to 
Gilroy's  first  account  of  the  wonders  of  a  great 
modern  newspaper  "plant,"  the  determination  to  re- 
vive the  subject  and  learn  all  that  Gilroy  could  tell 
him  of  the  mental  as  well  as  mechanical  process  of 
preparing  a  metropolitan  daily  for  its  readers. 

As  they  walked  together  toward  Captain 
French's  tent,  the  thought  came  to  him  that  prob- 
ably no  department  of  newspaper  work  was  more 
picturesque  and  interesting  than  that  in  which  Gil- 
roy was  engaged,  and  he  determined  to  keep  his 
eyes  open  and  let  no  feature  of  it  escape  him.  This 
was  no  idle  impulse  of  the  moment,  but  an  intelli- 
gent  appreciation   of    the   practical   value   of    the 

109 


no 


THF    YOUNG   NEWSPAPF'-R     SCOUT. 


I'ja 


experiences  tliroufjh  wliich  he  was  passing  and  the 
intuition  that,  in  ordei  to  appropriate  their  vahie  to 
himself  antl  turn  it  to  tlie  greatest  personal  account, 
he  must  not  only  make  a  close  observation  of  the 
scenes  of  each  day,  but  also  grasp  the  method  by 
which  tjie  war  correspondent  converted  them  into 
news,  thus  cultivating  by  observation  and  study  of 
Gilroy's  work  the  judgment  necessary  to  select  from 
all  the  facts  and  scenes  those  which  were  worthy  to 
be  utilized  as  news. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  Captain's  tent  he 
received  them  with  genuine  Irish  cordiality  and 
dismissed  all  other  business  to  devote  his  entire 
attention  to  his  newspaper  guests. 

Rodney  carefully  noticed  every  question  which 
Gilroy  put  to  the  Captain  and  the  answers — some- 
times frank  and  profuse,  sometimes  short  and 
evasive — which  that  of^ccr  returned. 

The  drift  of  these  questions  was  soon  apparent 
to  Rodney.  It  was  clear  to  him  that  Gilroy  was 
seeking  to  learn  whether  any  information  concern- 
ing the  whereabouts  of  the  rebel  chief  had  been 
gained.  But  if  such  information  was  in  possession 
of  Captain  French  then  he  was  clever  enough  to  give 
out  the  impression  that  he  was  as  ignorant  as  the 
newspaner  correspondent  himself  as  to  where  Riel 
was  intrenched. 

*'Doyou  think  there  will  be  anything  in  particu- 
lar doing  to-morrow?"  inquired  Gilroy. 

"No;  I  think  not — just  a  little  skirmishing  around 
the  edges.    I  think   the  General's  plan  is  to  let  up 


CAM  I'   SCENES. 


Ill 


up  for  a  day,  in  order  to  yet  a  good  ready  to 
charge  the  town.  Or,  as  the  Irishman  puts  it,  he 
proposes  to  spit  on  his  haiids  in  order  to  get  a  bet- 
ter hold." 

.  "Well ;  that'll  give  me  a  good  chance  to  get  off  m>' 
specials,  then." 

"And  that  means  another  ride  to  the  station  for 
you,"  he  added,  turning  to  Rodney. 

As  they  arose  to  go,  the  Captain  seemed  to  drop 
the  official  character  which  he  had  maintained  dur- 
ing the  interview,  and  laying  his  hand  upon  Gilroy's 
shoulder  he  exclaimed. 

"My  boy!  I  feel  that  I'm  going  to  come  out  of  this 
all  right  and  get  back  my  old  place  and  standing." 

"I  hope  so  Captain,  but  you  know  there's  many 
a  slip,  and-so-forth"  was  Gilroy's  reply. 

"Yes:  we  can't  most  always  tell.  But  I'm  bound 
to  get  reinstated  if  there's  such  a  thing  in  the 
cards!     And  win  it  out  of  their  very  teeth,  too!" 

"But  for  goodness  sake,  French,  don't  do  another 
fool  thing  like  the  way  you  stood  out  in  front  of 
those  Indians  in  the  ravine  and  invited  them  to  shoot 
at  you.  You'll  just  throw  your  life  away  by  such 
useless  recklessness,  next  time." 

With  this  reproving  speech  the  two  friends 
separated. 

On  their  way  back  to  their  own  tent,  Rodney 
inquired: 

"  What  did  Captain  French  mean  by  getting  his 
old  place  back  out  of  their  teeth?" 

"  He  does  seem  to  feel  cut  up  over   that  yet," 


112 


THE    VOUNC    NEWSPAPER     SCOUT. 


miiscil    Gilioy    aloud,  as    though    lie  liad   already 
answered  Rodney's  question. 

••Qh,  I'll  tell  you  about  that,"  he  resumed,  alter 
a  momentary  pause.  *'  The  Captain  used  to  holt!  a 
good  position  in  the  mounted  police.  Their  re^^u- 
lations  are  very  strict,  and  an  officer  who  has  a  mind 
to  can  find  occasion  to  discipline  anyone  under  him 
without  half  trying.  French  failed  to  please  his 
commander  in  some  way  and  was  discharged,  lie 
claims  that  his  dismissal  was  unjust,  and  I  believe  it 
was.  So  he's  determined  to  distinguish  himself  by 
special  bravery  in  this  insurrection,  and  win  back  his 
old  place  as  a  reward.  It'll  be  too  bad  if  he  don't, 
for  his  heart's  set  on  it — poor  fellow!  " 

Tliis  information  shed  a  new  light  upon  the 
conduct  and  character  of  the  genial  and  brilliant 
Irish  officer,  which  multiplied  their  fascination  in 
Rodney's  eyes,  and  made  them  appear  far  more 
dramatic,  not  to  say  pathetic,  in  his  eyes.  As  he 
thought  the  matter  over  before  dropping  into  sleep, 
his  impatience  grew  upon  him  to  know  the  result  of 
the  events  which  would  soon  determine  whether  the 
Captain's  ambition  would  be  gratified  or  denied. 

In  the  morning,  as  he  had  expected,  Gilroy  was 
ready  with  the  dispatches,  and  after  a  hasty  break- 
fast Rodney  leaped  into  his  saddle  and  was  off  for 
the  telegraph  station. 

He  stopped  Pink-eye,  after  having  made  a  start 
of  a  few  rods,  to  ask  of  Gilroy  permission  to  read 
the  specials.  This  was  cheerfully  granted,  and  he 
then  allowed  the  shaganappy,  which  had  had  but 


CAMP  SCENES. 


II 


little  riding  for  a  couple  of  days,  to  break  into  a 
brisk  canter.  He  ktiew  that  the  hardy  animal  would 
hold  this  "gait"  hour  after  hour,  and  bring  hiiu  back 
to  camp  again  much  sooner  than  Gilroy  expected, 
providing  no  adventure  or  calamity  detained  them. 

As  Pink-eye  loped  steadily  and  easily  forward, 
he  read  the  pages  of  Gilroy's  dispatch  without 
difficulty,  for  there  was  a  bold,  sharp  freedom  in 
correspondent's  "hand-writing,"  which  rendered  it 
almost  as  distinct  as  print. 

The  scene  of  the  previous  day  seemed  strangely 
heroic  when  viewed  through  the  article.  The  narra- 
tive gave  him  a  broader  and  more  complete  under- 
standing of  the  entire  situation  of  which  the  advent- 
ures in  the  ravine,  which  had  seemed  so  all- 
important  to  Rodney,  were  but  episodes. 

"Well,  I  could  come  nearer  to  writing  an  account 
like  that  now  than  before  reading  this  dispatch,  and 
I'm  going  to  write  up  the  next  engagement  myself, 
just  to  see  what  I  can  do  with  it,"  mused  Rodney, 
after  having  delivered  the  special  and  began  his 
backward  journey,  which  was  accomplished  without 
any  incidents  of  special  interest. 

There  was  no  lack  of  excitement  in  the  camp, 
however,  for  it  had  become  generally  understood 
that  the  following  day  would  be  devoted  to  a  charge 
upon  Batosch. 

"Why  wouldn't  Captain  French  tell  you  outright 
whether  or  not  he  knew  anything  about  where  Riel 
is  believed  to  be?"  asked  Rodney,  as  Gilroy  and 
himself  rolled  up  in  their  blankets  that  evening. 


114 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


"Because  he  didn't  want  me  or  anyone  else  to 
think  he  suspects  where  Riel  is  to  be  found. 
It  is  his  ambition  to  capture  the  big  rebel  him- 
self, and  in  that  matter  he  has  every  man  in  the 
service  for  a  rival.  He'd  risk  his  life  a  dozen  times 
for  the  mere  chance  of  bagging  Riel." 

The  camp  was  astir  early  and  Gilroy  was  about 
headquarters,  "getting  the  lay  of  the  land,"  as  he 
told  Rodney. 

"Vv  e'U  follow  French,  for  he'll  be  where  Riel  is 
if  the  fellow  is  anywhere  in  the  town,"  he  added. 

Consequently  they  cast  their  lot  with  the  dashing 
Irish  captain,  although  knowing  that,  he  would  be 
foremost  in  every  available  danger. 

Before  the  forces  were  ready  for  the  charge 
Rodney  rode  alone  to  the  picket  line  nearest  the 
church,  looking  idly  for  something  of  interest  to 
"turn  up." 

The  rifles  held  this  advance  position. 

Rodney  sat  on  his  shaganappy  beside  one  of 
these  handsome  young  fellows,  when  the  latter  sud- 
denly exclaimed: 

"Now  I  see  him,  the  dare-devil  rascal!  He's  been 
cutting  off  our  men  steadily;  but  I  guess  it's  about 
his  last  trick!"  And  with  this  the  rifleman  brought 
his  repeater  to  his  shoulder. 

At  first  glance  it  appeared  to  Rodney  that  the 
rifleman  was  aiming  into  mid-air;  but  a  swift  glance 
along  the  barrel  of  the  arm  revealed  the  fact  that  it 
was  headed  upon  the  figure  of  a  man  upon  the 
belfrey  uf  the  church. 


CAMP  SCENES. 


115 


A  momentafter  the  white  smoke  puffed  from  the 
muzzle  of  the  gun  and  the  sharpshooter  reeled  from 
his  lofty  perch  and  went  careering  down,  headfore- 
most to  the  ground. 

Although  the  comrades  of  the  rifleman  congrat- 
ulated him  upon  his  brilliant  shot,  and  the  man 
seemed  to  consider  it  with  the  same  cool  pride 
that  he  would  have  done  had  his  victim  been  a 
turkey  instead  of  a  human  being,  Rodney  could 
not  catch  this  spirit,  and  the  ghastly  sight  lingered 
in  his  mind  after  he  had  turned  back  to  join 
Gilroy. 

*The  scouts  are  going  down  into  the  ravine  again' 
into  the  rifle  pits  which  were  constructed  last  night. 
I  suppose  we  might  as  well  go  with  them"  was  Gil- 
roy's  greeting. 

"Yes,  sir,  responded  Rodney,  who  did  not  really 
relish  the  announcement  with  quite  the  enthusiasm 
that  his  promptness  indicated. 

They  joined  Lieutenant  Johns'  detachment,  and 
went  down  into  the  ravine,  under  a  brisk  fire  from 
the  enemy. 

Many  of  the  pits  were  already  occupied,  and  they 
were  obliged  to  scatter  into  such  of  them  as  were 
not  entirely  full.  As  usual  Gilroy  and  Rodney  con- 
trived to  find  a  place  together. 

"Well;  this  is  a  little  more  comfortable  fighting 
than  previous  occasions  have  afforded  in  the  ravine. 
Nothing  like  having  something  in  front  of  a  fellow 
when  facing  a  fire  from  Indians  and  Half  Breeds!" 
philosophized  Gilroy. 


T^i- 

^ 

m 

ii6 

THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 

"Yes;  it's  a  good  deal  better  than  being  under  a 
cross  fire,"  admitted  Rodney. 

Hour  after  hour  passed  until  the  intermittent 
discharge  of  rifles  at  the  ambushed  rebels,  who 
blocked  the  ravine  between  the  scouts  and  the  town, 
grew  almost  monotonous. 

In  a  moment  of  unusual  quiet  the  sound  of  dis- 
tant cheering  reached  the  ears  of  Rodney,  who 
exclaimed: 

"Hark!    What's  that?" 

"That's  the  yell  of  the  Midland  Rifles.  They're 
charging  the  town!  Come — let's  get  out  of  this, 
lively!  I  want  to  be  on  hand  as  soon  as  they  enter 
the  village,  if  possible,"  exclaimed  Gilroy  excitedly. 

Then  came  the  call  for  the  scouts  to  hasten 
along  the  trail  past  the  old  church  and  through  the 
timber  to  the  town. 

"We're  with  you!"  replied  Lieutenant  Johns,  also 
leaping  from  the  rifle-pit  and  joining  the  newspaper 
scouts  in  their  dash  toward  the  other  troops. 

"Now  for  it  boys!"  was  the  greeting  of  Captain 
French,  who  stood  waiting  with  the  remainder  of 
his  company  on  the  bank  of  the  ravine,  eager  for 
the  crucial  charge,  in  which  he  hoped  to  win,  by 
gallant  fighting,  the  coveted  restoration  to  his  old 
rank  in  the  mounted  police. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE    ROUT    OF   THE    REBELS. 


FROM  the  intense  excitement  of  those  about 
him  Rodney  divined  that  the  supreme  moment 
of  the  insurrection  had  come  in  the  charge  upon 
the  Rebel  stronghold  of  Batosch,  and  he  also  was  im- 
pressed with  the  fact  that  somehow  it  was  to  be  a 
great  day  in  the  life  of  Captain  French,  who  had 
been  much  in  his  thoughts  since  hearing  Gilroy's 
interesting  account  of  the  captain's  career. 

No  sooner  had  they  passed  on  tiirough  the  tim- 
ber than  they  saw  the  Midland  Rifles  a  short  dis- 
tance beyond,  making  a  dashing  descent  upon  the 
village. 

The  Half  Breeds  and  their  allies,  however,  were 
hotly  contesting  every  rod  of  their  way,  and  pour- 
ing a  cutting  fire  into  the  troops. 

They  were  met  by  several  litters  upon  which  the 
wounded  were  being  carried  back  to  a  place  of 
safety.  It  wrung  Rodney's  heart  to  even  glance  at 
the  poor  fellows,  but  there  was  no  time  to  pause. 

He  determined  to  keep  close  to  Captain  French  at 
all  hazards,  for  not  only  did  the  unfinished  drama  of 
the  man's  life  hold  him  with  a  more  powerful  fasci- 
nation than  the  most  thrilling  story  that  he  had  ever 
read,  but  he  also  realized  that  the  outcome  of  the 
man's  part  in  that   day's   battle   would  form  a  most 

117 


■11 


J'' 


ii8 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


interesting  chapter  in  the  conflict  in  which  «:vtry 
personal  detail  and  incident  would  be  of  value  to 
Gilroy. 

Although  it  was  the  work  of  but  a  few  minutes 
to  dislodge  the  Rebels  from  the  village  and  drive 
them  to  the  table  land  close  to  the  water's  edge,  it 
seemed  a  long  time  to  Rodney. 

Men  fell  in  the  death  agonies  close  about  him, 
but  he  seemed  to  have  but  one  thought — to  keep 
near  Captain  French.  This  he  did  at  the  cost  of 
many  reckless  exposures,  for  the  captain  was  at  the 
front  of  the  fight,  and  seemed  to  court  rather  than 
avoid  danger. 

It  was  with  a  thrill  of  pleasure  that,  as  Rodney 
came  alongside  the  captain,  in  front  of  a  blacksmith 
shop,  from  which  a  squad  of  Rebels  had  but  just 
been  routed,the  officer  recognized  him  and  exclaimed : 

*'  Lad,  this  is  no  place  for  you.  Better  go  back 
where  it  isn't  so  infernal  hot!" 

Rodney  was  fearful  that  this  request  wac  to  be 
made  pre-emptory,  but  if  this  had  been  the  captain's 
intention  it  was  suddenly  changed  by  the  course  of 
events. 

As  Rodney  was  listening  to  the  commander's 
words,  he  saw  the  lower  sash  of  a  window  in  the 
neighboring  saloon  suddenly  lift  high  enough  for 
the  person  manipulating  it  to  thrust  the  butt  of  a 
beer  bottle  beneath  it.  Through  the  opening  thus 
made  the  barrel  of  a  rifle  appeared,  pointing  directly 
at  the  captain. 

Rodney's  first  thought  was  to  strike  the  captain's 


THE    ROUT    OF   THE    REBELS. 


119 


horse  a  blow  which  should  make  the  animal  leap 
forward  and  allow  the  ball  to  pass  harmlessly  behind 
the  victim  for  whom  it  was  intended.  Kut  a  j^lance 
showed  him  that  he  could  not  reach  the  horse. 
There  was  but  one  alternative. 

Instantly  bringing  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder  he 
aimed  it  as  best  he  could  for  a  spot  just  in  range  with 
the  protruding  rifle  and  fired. 

The  report  of  his  own  gun  was  followed  by  a  puff 
of  smoke  from  the  muzzle  of  the  other  rifle,  and  a 
ball  shrieked  over  the  captain's  shoulder. 

The  hand  which  had  held  the  rifle  in  the  window 
seemed  to  have  suddenly  dropped  from  its  hold, 
for  the  end  of  the  Winchester's  barrel  swung  slightly 
to  and  from,  with  a  side  motion,  as  though  held  in 
place  only  by  the  sash   and  casing  of  the  window. 

Rodney,  with  a  mixed  pang  of  regret  and  throb 
of  pride,  realized  that  his  shot  must  have  been  fatal, 
no  doubt  having  struck  the  Rebel  in  the  forehead.  It 
was  this  thought  which  filled  him  with  regret,  for 
even  in  the  heat  of  an  engagement  he  could  not  rid 
himself  of  the  feeling  that  it  was  a  terrible  thing  to 
take  a  human  life.  But  he  met  this  accusing 
thought  with  the  recollection  that  he  had  fired  the 
shot  to  save  the  life  of  a  brave  man. 

When,  in  the  instant  following  the  shots,  he  again 
heard  the  voice  of  the  captain,  he  expected  that  it 
was  addressed  to  him,  perhaps  in  some  recognition 
of  what  he  had  just  done. 

But  instead  he  heard  a  ringing  command  to 
charge  and  clean  out  the  saloon  building. 


120 


THE    YOUNr.    NEWSPAPER     SCOUT. 


I 


It  was  witli  a  sense  of  almost  personal  injury  that 
Rodney  saw  that  the  captain  had  either  not  seen 
the  danj^er  from  which  the  lucky  shot  had  delivered 
him  or  had  deliberately  dismissed  the  acknowledge- 
ment of  it  to  some  more  convenient  time. 

When  the  last  refujj^ee  in  the  saloon  had  cither 
escaped  or  been  shot  down,  the  scouts  pressed  on 
after  the  main  body  of  the  Rebels  in  the  outskirts  of 
the  villac^e. 

As  they  came  in  front  of  a  larj^e  sic^htly  frame 
house,  which  occupied  an  elevation  somewhat 
hij^her  than  the  nei^cjhboring  residences,  Captain 
French  quickly  entered  it. 

Rodney  paused  by  the  door,  and  could  hear  the 
quick  footsteps  of  the  oflficer  runnin.i^  up  the  stairs. 

After  a  moment  of  indecision,  Rodney  concluded 
to  wait  outside. 

Althout^h  the  firinf]^  in  that  immediate  locality 
had  nearly  ceased,  he  did  not  forget  that  the  exer- 
cise of  caution  was  still  necessary;  for  there  was  no 
telling  what  house  or  thicket  might  still  be  shelter 
for  a  desperate  and  determined  enemy. 

Just  as  he  came  cautiously  around  the  corner 
of  the  house,  he  saw  the  gleam  of  a  rifle  aimed 
through  the  crotch  of  a  low  orchard  tree.  Before 
he  could  bring  his  own  gun  to  his  shoulder  thesmoke 
curled  from  the  muzzle  of  the  Winchester,  and  its 
report  echoed  against  the  side  of  the  building. 

It  had  not  escaped  Rodney's  attention  that  the 
man's  aim  had  been  high,  no  doubt  at  the  chamber 
window. 


THE    ROUT    OF   TUF.    RKBKr.S. 


121 


He  was  not  conscious  of  the  near  presence  of  any 
person  otlier  tlian  tlie  Rebel  sharpshooter  until  start 
led  by  the  crack  of  a  rifle  just    behind    him.     In  a 
glance  he  saw  the  Rebel  fall  backward. 

"Settled  his  hash,  didn't  I?"  were  the  words 
which  greeted  him  from  Lieutenant  Johns,  as  he 
turned  about  and  saw  the  officer  ejecting  the  ex- 
ploded shell  from  his  rifle. 

"Yes;  Captain  French  went  upstairs  a  few  mo- 
ments ago;  I'm  afraid  he's  shot,"  was  Rodney's 
brief  answer. 

"Come;  let's  go  up.  Rut  I  hate  to  like  sin. 
Somehow  it  seems  to  me  that  fellow  had  a  mij,dity 
good  aim,  across  that  rest.  Great  heaven!  if  I  coultl 
only  have  been  there  about  one  minute  before!" 

Rodney's  super-sensitiveness  interpreted  this  as 
a  rebuke  of  his  own  indecision  and  it  rankled  keenly 
as  he  followed  the  lieutenant  up  the  stairway  and 
into  the  first  chamber,  the  door  of  which  stood 
slightly  ajar. 

Even  the  lieutenant  gave  an  involuntary  moan 
at  the  sight  of  the  dead  body  of  his  captain,  which 
lay  stretched  upon  the  floor. 

Rodney  was  strangely  affected  by  the  sight.  It 
seemed  to  him  like  the  death  of  a  personal  friend. 

They  together  took  up  the  body  and  carried  it 
down  the  staircase  and  out  of  the  door. 

The  main  body  of  the  scouts,  among  whom  was 
Gilroy,  was  just  passing. 

In  a  moment  they  surrounded  their  dead  leader. 

"Get  a  wagon  and   we  will   take   him   back   to 


122 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


1,      ^ 

camp,"  ordered  Lieutenant  Johns.  "The  regulars 
have  the  Rebels  on  the  run,  out  of  town,  anyway.' 

When  the  wagon  arrived  they  tenderly  placed 
the  body  in  the  center  of  it  and  then  seated  them- 
selves around  it. 

The  ride  back  to  camp  was  a  very  solemn  and 
impressive  one  to  Rodney.  Few  words  were  passed 
over  the  body  of  their  dead  companion,  Lieutenant 
Johns  giving  a  brief  account  of  shooting  the  Rebel 
and  finding  Captain  French.  In  addition  to  the 
ambulances  bearing  their  own  dead  and  wounded, 
which  they  encountered  on  the  way,  there  were 
numerous  Red  River  carts — rude,  lumbering  two- 
wheeled  affairs,  bound  together  with  strips  of  shag- 
anappy  rawhide,  without  a  nail  in  their  entire  con- 
struction— piled  with  the  bodies  of  dead  Half 
Breeds.  The  feet  of  the  latter  protruded  out  of  the 
rear  of  the  short  carts  as  stiffly  as  though  they  were  so 
many  pieces  of  cord-wood.  To  add  to  the  grotesque- 
ness  of  the  spectacle  the  carts  creaked  a  monotonous, 
doleful  wailing,  which  would  have  evoked  a  round 
of  laughter  from  the  most  serious  observer  under 
any  other  circumstances. 

As  he  watched  the  carts  with  their  humble  dead, 
hauled  along  behind  wasted  shaganappies,  he  could 
not  but  think  that  had  his  father  not  died  he 
might  have  been  among  one  of  those  loads  of  Rebel 
dead. 

After  the  scouts  had  cared  for  ihe  body  of  Capt- 
ain French  as  best  they  could,  Rodney  and  Gilroy 
had   found  themselves  once  more  together  where 


THE  ROUT  OF  THE  REBELS. 


123 


they  could  talk   over  the  occurrences  of  the  hours 
since   they  had  become  separated. 

Under  spur  of  Gilroy's  questions,  Rodney  gave 
him  a  detailed  account  of  the  scenes  of  which  he 
had  been  the  witness. 

"Well;  I  shall  have  to  depend  almost  wholly 
upon  the  features  of  the  engagement  which  you 
have  seen,  for  they  are  by  far  the  most  important; 
and  what  is  more,  you  have  remembered  and  told 
just  those  things  which  are  real  live  'material*  for  a 
newspaper  man,"  said  Gilroy,  and  finally  added: 

"Now  suppose  we  follow  up  the  troops  for  a  way 
and  then  go  over  through  the  Indian  camp.  There 
may  be  some  scenes  worth  describing  over  there." 

Accordingly  they  followed  the  course  of  the 
troops  for  a  sufficient  distance  to  see  that  the  Rebels 
had  been  thoroughly  routed.  Then  they  crossed  the 
river  to  the  Indian  camp. 

"You  might  go  up  that  side  of  the  camp  and 
notice  everything  you  can  see,  while  I  do  the  same 
by  this  side,  and  we'll  meet  up  at  the  other  end  and 
come  along  back  through  the  center  together,"  said 
Gilroy,  as  they  halted  their  horses  in  front  of  the 
broken  array  of  tepees. 

Rodney  immediately  acted  upon  this  suggestion. 
On  every  hand  were  the  most  pathetic  reminders  of 
the  devastation  which  the  gatling  gun  and  smaller 
arms  had  wrought.  Occasionally  a  squaw  could  be 
seen  moving  stolidly  about  among  the  deserted 
tepees,  giving  him  vengeful  side-long  glances  out  of 
twinkling  black  eyes. 


124 


Tui-:  vouNc;  nkwspai'kk   scout. 


l)iit  no  incident  of  tiic  moment  occurred  until  he 
licard  the  voice  of  a  s(iua\v,  some  distance  ahead, 
talkiuL,^  in  excited  but  i)leadin^  tones. 

lie  put  spurs  to  old  Pink-eye  antl  pushed  rapidly 
forward  until  he  reached  the  scene  of  the  dis- 
turbance. 

The  si^dit  which  met  his  eyes  aroused  his  anger 
as  nothin^^  in  all  his  life  had  before  done. 

Beside  a  dead  warrior  knelt  a  soldier,  who  was 
rapidly  stripping  from  the  brave's  limbs  the  superbly 
beaded  leggins  and  moccasins,  while  the  squaw  was 
pleading,  in  the  most  impassioned  voice  and  gestures, 
with  the  wretch  to  stop  his  heartless  sacrilege. 

Rodney  knew  that  any  kind  of  pleading,  expostu- 
lation or  threats  would  be  useless,  and  that  a  being 
depraved  enough  to  commit  so  cruel  an  outrage 
against  every  human  instinct  would  be  desperate 
enough  to  take  the  life  of  anyone  who  should  excite 
his  anger  by  attempting  to  interfere  with  his  work 
of  plunder  or  bring  him  to  account  for  it.  There- 
fore Rodney  instantly  drew  his  revolver  upon  the 
man  and  said: 

"Hands  up!     Stir  and  I  will  drop  you." 

Although  the  words  were  spoken  in  a  quiet  way, 
there  was  a  force  of  determination  in  them  which 
could  not  fail  to  convince  the  soldier  of  the  boy's 
earnestness  and  courage;  and  he  obeyed  as  promptly 
as  though  he  were  being  "held  up"  by  a  masked 
highwayman. 

Rodney  then  shouted  to  Gilroy,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  latter  rode  up  with  the  question: 


THE    ROUT   OF   TIIK    REBELS. 


I2t; 


"What's  up  now?"  plainly  spcakin^^  in  his  aston- 
ished countenance. 

•'This  fellow  was  stripping  the  finery  from  the 
body  of  that  warrior  in  the  very  eyes  of  the  squaw 
and  in  spite  of  her  pleadinj^s." 

"The  brute!  We'll  let  the  old  general  deal  with 
him!"  exclaimed  Gilroy,  his  lips  white  with  honest 
indignation. 

"  Now  get  up  and  march,"  he  ordered,  address- 
ing the  culprit,  who  yielded  a  surly  obedience  to  the 
command. 

They  went  at  once  before  the  general,  a  short, 
stout  man,  with  heavy,  white  military  moustache  and 
dignified  bearing,  who  ordered  Rodney  to  tell  his 
story. 

The  boy  related  the  incident  in  a  brief,  modest 
and  matter-of-fact  way,  and  concluded  by  saying: 

"  I  think  he  has  one  of  the  moccasins  in  his 
pocket    now." 

"  Search  him,"  commanded  the  general. 

He  was  obeyed  by  the  two  guards,  into  whose 
custody  the  soldier  had  been  given. 

Not  only  did  they  take  from  his  pockets  the 
beaded  moccasin,  but  also  a  quantity  of  silver 
trinkets  of  the  sort  most  worn  by  the  Indians  and 
Half  Breeds. 

"  Keep  him  under  close  guard.  We'll  give  him 
his  courtmartial  trial  in  the  morning." 

As  they  were  now  in  command  of  telegraphic 
connections  at  Batosch,  Rodney  had  no  long  courier's 
journey  to  make,  and  therefore  had  more  of  an  op- 


126 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


portunity  to  observe  Gilroy's  preparal.on  of  the 
dispatches.  He  was  pleased  to  see  that  the  specials 
contained  every  detail  which  he  had  furnished  to 
Gilroy,  and  in  nearly  the  same  sequence  and  words 
in  which  he  had  told  them. 

It  was  nearly  morning  when  the  last  of  the  long 
dispatches  were  off,  and  the  correspondent  and  his 
assistant  had  contrived  to  catch  only  a  couple  of 
hours'  sleep,  when  they  were  aroused  by  a  mes- 
senger from  the  general,  summoning  them  to  the 
court-martial  trial  of  the  plundering  soldier. 

When  they  had  concluded  their  testimony,  the 
man  received  the  severest  discipline  with  which  his 
offense  was  punishable,  and  the  general  issued  the 
order  that  any  similar  depredations  would  promptly 
meet  the  same  discipline. 

"  Who  were  you  talking  with  when  I  was  giving 
my  testimony?"  inquired  Rodney  of  Gilroy,  as  they 
walked  back  to  their  tent  together. 

•'  Houri,  the  government  interpreter.  I  believe 
that  fellow  knows  exactly  where  Riel  is  hiding.  I 
wish  you  could  keep  around  near  him,  and  perhaps 
you  may  be  able  to  pick  up  a  clue  from  some 
remark  that  he  may  drop." 

Charged  with  this  delicate  and  important  mis- 
sion Rodney  set  out  for  the  tent  to  which  Gilroy 
directed  him,  determined  to  accomplish  it  if  possible. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


IN  AT   THE   CAPTURE. 


(  i  T^iD  you  make  out  anything?"  inquired  Gilroy 

I  J  of  Rodney,  as  the  latter  returned  to  their 
tent  with  rather  a  disappointed  counccnance. 

"Not  a  thing!  couldn't  catch  a  single  word.  But  I 
did  manage  to  strike  up  an  acquaintance  with  young 
Houri,  the  interpreter's  son." 

"That's  right!  You'll  get  more  from  that  lead 
than  from  a  week's  listening.  Just  you  cultivate  him 
a  little  and  I  believe  he  will  give  the  thing  away — 
if  he  has  anything  to  give,"  exclaimed  Gilroy,  with 
hopeful  animation. 

"Very  well.  I'll  do  the  best  I  can,"  replied  Rod- 
ney. 

As  a  result  of  this  resolution  the  young  Half 
Breed  and  Rodney  were  together  much  of  the  time 
during  the  next  two  days,  which  were  spent  on  the 
march.  They  were  very  congenial  to  each  other  and 
Rodney  listened  with  delight  to  the  young  Houri's 
accounts  of  the  adventures  of  himself  and  his  father. 

On  the  other  hand  the  Half  Breed  drew  from  Rod- 
ney the  story  of  his  life  and  seemed  to  admire  the 
boy's  modest  and  manly  "grit"  in  his  fight  to  secure 
the  clean  title  to  a  home  for  his  mother,  and  to  lift 
from  her  the  burden  of  poverty. 

"Come  around  after  supper,"  he  called  to  Rodney, 

127 


128 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


I 


as  the  moving  columns  broke  up  for  camp  on  the 
evening  of  the  second  day  out  from  Batosch. 

Rodney  was  careful  to  keep  this  invitation  and 
found  his  friend  in  an  unusual  mood,  alternating  be- 
tween dreamful  abstraction  and  restless  excitement. 
He  was  not  inclined  to  say  much  for  some 
time,  but  finally  said:  "Let's  take  a  strolL"  This 
remark  was  made  with  the  air  of  one  who  had  at  last 
reached  the  final  decision  of  some  vexatious  ques- 
tion. 

When  they  were  well  out  of  hearing  from  all 
others,  Houri  stopped  abruptly,  looked  sharply  into 
Rodney's  face  and  then  asked: 

"Merton,  can  you  keep  a  secret  from  everybody, 
even  from  Gilroy?" 

This  was  a  turn  in  affairs  for  which  Rodney  was 
not  prepared.  Any  pledge  of  secrecy  that  he  might 
give  must  be  kept  to  the  letter  and  spirit.  At  the 
same  time  Gilroy  would  expect  that  any  informa- 
tion which  Rodney  might  gain  would  be  his  prop- 
erty. Would  it  not  be  better  to  refuse  the  informa- 
tion upon  the  condition  named  and  t.ust  to  picking 
it  up  in  some  other  way?    Then  came  the  thought: 

"If  he  is  going  to  tell  me  where  Riel  is  hiding  it 
is  for  the  purpose  of  having  me  accompany  him  in 
attempting  the  capture.  Why  not  accept  the  con- 
dition of  secrecy  and  go  with  him,  and  if  the  attempt 
is  successful  the  information  can  afterward  be  given 
to  Gilroy. 

"Certainly,  I  will  tell  no  one,"  he  replied. 

"Very  well!      I    have   learned   the   exact   cabin 


IN   AT   THE    CAPTURE. 


129 


where  Louis  Riel  is  hiding.  Not  even  my  father 
knows  that — although  he  has  a  general  idea  of  the 
neighborhood  in  which  Louis  is  now  located.  You 
know  the  government  offers  a  good  round  sum  for 
his  capture. 

"I  know  him  well — much  better  than  I  do  you — 
and  I  believe  that  we  can  take  him.  He  was  let  off 
easy  by  the  government  after  his  other  trouble,  and 
it  is  natural  that  he  should  have  confidence  that  he 
might  obtain  mercy  again,  especially  when  his  exe- 
cution would  stir  up  all  the  bad  blood  in  the  north- 
west, just  when  the  government  has  about  got  the 
thing  squelched.  If  you  want  to  try  the  plan  we 
will  do  so  and  divide  the  reward  for  his  capture 
evenly  between  us.  If  you  don't  care  to  do  this  I'll 
try  it  alone." 

"Yes;  I'll  go,  of  course — and  thank  you  for  shar- 
ing the  chance,  which  you  might  have  kept  to  your- 
self, with  me,"  eagerly  replied  Rodney. 

"Oh  that's  nothing.  I  like  your  grit;  and  besides, 
I'd  rather  have  you  with  me  than  to  try  it  alone.  If 
he  should  make  a  fight  it  might  come  handy  to  have 
a  friend  along,  you  know!  Now  we'll  fall  in  at  the 
rear  to-morrow  morning,  and  when  we  get  to  the 
right  cross  trail  we'll  branch  off  and  go  it  alone." 

In  reply  to  Gilroy's  inquiries,  after  returning  to 
the  tent,  Rodney  said: 

"I  haven't  been  able  to  get  even  a  general  idea 
of  Riel's  hiding  place  yet;  but  I  suppose  that  I  can't 
do  better  than  to  1 


-P 


yoi 


'No;   that's  right.     Stick  as  tight  to  him  as  yo 


u 


130 


THE   YOUNG  NEWSPAPER   SCOUT. 


i 


can  without  exciting  his  suspicion,"  replied  Gilroy. 
*'But  I  believe  I've  struck  a  lead,  for  1  overheard 
Houri's  father  telling  Major  Bolton  that  he  knew  the 
general  locality  in  which  Riel  is  skulking,  so  I'm 
going  to  follow  them.  Between  us  both  we  ought 
to  be  in  at  the  final  wound-up.  If  it  should  fall  to 
your  luck  don't  miss  a  word,  look  or  gesture,  for  I 
want  to  give  a  minute  description  of  everything 
attending  the  capture." 

Thoughts  of  the  possibilities  of  the  morrow  did 
not  allow  Rodney  to  sleep  but  little  that  night.  If 
they  might  only  succeed  in  capturing  the  famous 
Rebel  and  secure  the  reward!  He  thought  of  all  the 
comforts  that  it  would  secure  to  his  mother  and 
himself,  and  even  began  to  plan  just  how  he  would 
spend  it.  But  the  honor  which  would  attend  such  a 
feat  could  scarcely  be  less  a  consideration  in  the 
thought  of  a  courageous,  imaginative  and  adventure- 
loving  frontier  lad  than  the  liberal  financial  reward. 

He  contrived  to  secure  an  extra  feed  for  Pink- 
eye that  morning  and  also  gave  his  rifle  and  revolv- 
ers a  cleaning  of  unusual  thoroughness. 

When  the  march  began  he  found  Houri,  faithful 
to  his  word,  at  the  foot  of  the  column. 

All  the  forenoon  they  rode  side  by  side  with  the 
exchange  of  scarcely  a  word. 

But  when  the  halt  was  made  for  dinner,  Houri 
pointed  to  a  trail  which  crossed  the  one  which  the 
troops  were  following. 

"That's  it,"  he  whispered,  "but  we  must  not  strike 
out  until  the  othens  take  up  the  march,  for  it  would 


iL 

■'li. 
Jit' 

1 
f 

IN    AT   THE    CAPTURE. 


131 


be  too  noticeable  and  wc  might  have  the  whole 
bunch  of  them  at  our  heels." 

Rodney  endeavored  to  conceal  his  excitement, 
during  the  noon  meal,  as  much  as  possible;  but  was 
oppressed  with  the  fear  that  he  had  succeeded  but 
poorly. 

At  last  the  troops  fell  into  line  again  and  the 
young  Half  Breed  and  Rodney  lagged  behind  for  a 
little  and  then  dashed  rapidly  over  the  prairie 
toward  a  cabin  some  two  miles  distant. 

"He's  in  that  shack;  and  if  he's  going  to  make 
any  resistance  he'll  likely  have  the  drop  on  one  or 
the  other  of  us.  We  might  just  as  well  make  up  our 
minds  to  that.  The  only  thing  we  can  do  is  to  get 
a  good  ready,  keep  our  eyes  peeled  and  shoot  quick, 
if  it  comes  to  that.  There's  no  use  trying  to  make 
a  sneak  on  him." 

Rodney  had  never  felt  his  heart  beat  with  such 
terrific  blows  as  when  they  approached  within  a 
hundred  yards  of  the  cabin. 

At  first  they  could  see  no  one  within  the  cabin, 
but  in  a  moment  a  dark  and  rather  handsome  man 
appeared. 

"Hello,  Louis!"  gaily  called  Houri,  divining,  at  a 
glance,  that  resistance  was  evidently  not  Riel's 
programme,  "You're  just  the  man  I'm  looking 
for.  Better  throw  up  the  game  and  come  along 
with  us." 

"Will  you  guarantee  me  a  safe  passage?"  was 
the  terse  reply. 

"Yes,  we  will  deliver  you  to  the  authorities    safe 


132 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER   SCOUl. 


and  sound.     You  needn't  worry  about  that.     There 
will  be  no  trouble,  anyway.     It  will  all  be  quiet." 

/Y  pity  of  the  defeated  and  captured  man  crept 
into  Rodney's  heart  as  they  rode  to  join  the  troops, 
and  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  regard  the  quiet 
and  dignified  man  as  "an  ambitious  pretender  and 
demagogue  who  had  determined  to  win  by  the  rifle 
and  at  the  cost  of  the  lives  of  those  whom  he  could 
dupe,  the  power  which  he  had  failed  to  achieve  in 
the  halls  of  parliament." 

Rodney  could  not  reconcile  this  newspaper  descrip- 
tion of  the  Rebel  leader  with  the  actual  man  at  his 
side;  and  at  this  feeling  that  the  Half  Breed  chief 
was  not  so  black  as  he  had  been  painted  intensified. 
Rodney's  conscience  began  to  accuse  him  for  his 
part  in  the  capture  of  the  man.  But  he  dismissed 
this  disagreeable  thought  for  the  time,  with  the 
reflection  that  even  though  Riel  should  pay  the 
death  penalty  for  his  act,  his  capture  would  proba- 
bly put  an  end  to  the  strife  and  be  the  means  of 
stopping  the  waste  of  life  which  had  been  so  revolt- 
ing to  him  and  to  which  he  could  not  become  hard- 
ened or  indifferent. 

As  they  approached  the  troops  Houri  requested 
Rodney  to  ride  on  in  advance  and  report  their  capt- 
ure to  the  general.  Many  curious  eyes  were  turned 
upon  him  as  he  came  forward  and  held  a  momentary 
conversation  with  the  commander,  who  ordered  an 
instant  halt  and  took  measures  to  receive  the  pr  s- 
oner  in  a  fitting  manner. 

it  was  with  embarrassment  amounting  to  almost 


W'  I 


IN    AT   THE    CATTURF:. 


1  "" '» 


shame  that  Rodney  received  the  hearty  congratula- 
tions of  Gih-oy,  Lieutenant  Johns  and  all  of  the  other 
officers  and  men  who  knew  him.  Mc  tried  to  explain 
that  he  had  done  nothing  at  all;  that  Riel  had  sim- 
ply surrendered  and  accompanied  them  back  to 
camp. 

"  But  it  took  grit  to  ride  up  to  that  cabin  know- 
ing that  Louis  Riel  would  have  nine  chances  out  of 
ten  in  getting  the  drop  on  you.  If  you  didn't  have 
to  fight  for  your  life  it  wasn't  the  fault  of  the  chances 
you  took, "  replied  the  lieutenant. 

'*  Well,  "  was  Rodney's  unspoken  comment,  "  I'll 
have  my  share  of  the  reward,  anyway.  y\nd  what  a 
world  of  comforts  that  will  buy  for  mother!  " 

That  evening  he  wa'ote  the  good  news  to  his 
mother,  and  also,  with  young  Houri,  made  claim 
to  the  reward.  As  he  finished  his  letter,  it  suddenly 
occurred  to  him  that  the  capture  of  Riel  practically 
ended  the  war.  "  What  are  we  going  to  do  now?  " 
he  asked  Gilroy,  with  an  abruptness  which  startled 
the  correspondent  out  of  a  well-developed  nap. 

•'  Going?  "  repeated  Gilroy,  rubbing  his  eyes  in 
confusion,  "  Oh  yes!  We're  going  on  the  trail  of 
Big  Bear.  And  a  rocky  road  it'll  be,  too!  But  it'll 
be  something  new — a  little  different  from  what 
we've  been  having.  Going  through  the  thick  timber, 
I  imagine,  will  be  the  worst  of  it.  " 

Rodney  added  this  information  to  his  letter  and 
then  sought  his  blanket,  with  that  "  good  wholesome 
tired  "  which  insured  him  sound  and  refreshing  rest. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


ON    THE    TRAIL    OF    BIG    BEAR. 


IT  was  with  a  sense  of  deep  relief  that  Rochicy 
i  began  the  march  from  Garripy  Crossing  to  Prince 
Albert. 

"Somehow  I  feel  as  though  Yd  been  just  let  out  of 
school — as  though  we  were  through  with  the  hard 
part  of  the  business  and  the  remainder  of  it  would 
be  more  like  traveling  for  the  fun  of  it,"  Rodney 
confided  to  Gilroy. 

"Well,  I  do  think  we've  seen  the  hardest  part  of 
the  fighting — but  you  must  remember  what  I  told 
Captain  French  that  night  before  the  taking  of  Ba- 
tosch,"  replied  Gilroy.  Me  did  not  need  to  say  any- 
thing more  in  order  to  emphasize  the  uncertainty  of 
human  calculations. 

It  was  too  grim  a  subject  to  be  pursued  further, 
and  Rodney  lapsed  into  gloomy  silence  which  grad- 
ually changed  into  a  dreamful  enjoyment  of  the  soft 
springtime  world  about  him.  The  delicate  silver 
birches  with  their  white  bodies  wrapped  in  the  flow- 
ing robes  of  their  slender  pendant  whips  of  softest 
green  stirred  the  poetry  within  the  boy  and  brought 
back  again  to  him  the  tender  and  worshi[)ful  feeling 
which  he  had  so  often  experienced  when  alone  in  the 
woods,  hunting  or  visiting   his  traps.      This   led   to 

134 


ON    THE    TKAir,    OF    BIG    BEAR. 


135 


thoujijhts  of  his  motlicr  and  a  sudden  and  almost 
ovcru'liclminfj  desire  to  sec  her.  So  strongly  did  this 
wish  master  him  that  he  would  have  welcomed  an 
opportunity  to  turn  back  toward  the  little  cabin  on 
the  Qu'Appelle. 

Then  he  began  to  formulate  plans  as  to  what  he 
should  do  upon  his  return. 

•'Yes,  sir!  I'll  stick  to  my  original  plan  and  take 
mother  for  a  visit  to  her  folks  in  Illinois.  Then  I'll 
get  a  foochold  with  some  newspaper  in  Chicago  if  I 
can.  But  if  I  should  fail  in  that  I'll  be  contented 
for  a  time  on  some  smaller  paper — perhaps  the  one 
in  town  where  they  live.  If  mother  gets  homesick 
and  wants  to  come  back  to  the  fort,  of  course  I'll 
come  to,  but  I  shall  try  to  get  her  to  stay  a 
year  anyway,"     Rodney  nieditated. 

Ke  ventured  to  inquire  of  Gilroy  about  the  Chi- 
cago newspapers. 

"Equal  to  the  Toronto  and  Montreal  papers? 
Well  I  should  say  so — and  way  ahead  of  them,  too! 
They've  more  nerve  and  pusH  in  a  minute  than  the 
Canadian  papers  have  in  all  day!  If  there's  any 
country  or  part  of  a  country  in  which  the  public  is 
especially  interested,  the  Chicago  papers  are  right 
on  hand  to  send  out  exploring  expeditions,  even 
nt  the  cost  of  thousands  of  dollars.  They  have 
more  dash  and  enterprise  than  the  Canadian  jour- 
nals, which  are  patterned  considerably  after  their 
staid  conservative  English  cousins." 

"How  would  anyone  manage  who  wanted  to  get 
a   start  on   one   of   those  papers  do — anyone — of — 


n,Ci 


TU\<:    VOUNG    NKWSr.M'KK     SCOUT. 


d.-> 


my  iij^c,  1  iiiL'.in?"  bashfully  st.unnicrccl    Rodney 
they  rode  alon<^  side  by  side. 

"They'd  probably  try — (i//(i  fail!"'  was  Gilroy's 
discourat^inL]^  rejoinder. 

After  a  few  moments'  reflection,  he  added: 

"There  are  several  ways  in  which  youn^  fellows 
j^et  a  start." 

"I5ut  I  suppose  they  all  have  to  begin  at  the 
bottom?"  interrupted  Rodney. 

"No;  that's  just  where  you  and  lots  of  others  are 
mistaken.  It's  getting  so  now  that  one  is  almost  as 
likely  to  begin  in  the  middle,  or  even  higher  up.  I 
suppose  if  one  began  strictly  at  the  bottom,  he 
would  first  be  set  to  holding  copy;  that  is,  reading  the 
manuscript  in  comparison  with  the  proof.  The  next 
step  would  be  the  more  unpleasant  kinds  of  reporting. 
After  that  would  follow  the  more  desirable  kinds  of 
reporting,  special  writing,  editorial  work  and  edi- 
torial writing.  If  you  started  in  holding  copy,  you 
would  probably  get  all  of  six  dollars  a  week — and 
pay  out  five  of  it  for  board,  unless  you  got  a  cheap 
room  and  lived  out.  If  you  had  a  genius  for  econ- 
omy, you  might  manage  to  cut  that  down  a  little; 
but  it  would  be  a  tight  squeeze  at  best,"  again  ex- 
plained Gilroy. 

"But  how  could  anyone  begin  in  the  middle,  as 
you  say?" 

"Oh,  in  a  dozen  ways.  Simply  by  being  able  to 
show  himself  capable  of  doing  some  special 
branch  of  work.  This  is  usually  begun  by  submitting 
special   articles  at   space   rate.     For  instance,  you 


ON   THE   TRAIL    OF    BIO    BEAR. 


137 


chocsc  your  own  subject — somctliiuir  on  vvhicli  you 
happen  to  be  well  posted  and  which  is  of  j^eneral  and 
timely  interest- -and  write  it  up.  If  the  editor 
accei^ts  it,  you  will  probably  try  another;  ant!  so 
on.  If  you  can  make  a,^^of  it, and  have  your  'stuff,' 
as  they  say,  taken  rij^ht  alonjj^,  then  you  may  be 
liircd  on  a  salary,  or  a  guaranty  that  a  certain 
amount  of  your  work  will  be  used.  Then  you  would 
be  a  special  writer,  w4iich  is  about  the  next  thing 
to  being  an  editorial  writer." 

Although  this  information  did  not  by  any  means 
satisfy  Rodney  and  a  score  of  other  questions  came 
up  in  his  mind  he  feared  that  he  might  weary  Gilroy 
and  deferred  them  until  another  time.  But  the 
somewhat  discouraging  outlook  which  Gilroy  had 
held  up  did  not  discourage  him.  I.  only  aroused 
his  determination  the  more. 

After  the  journey  from  Garrepy  Crossing  to 
Prince  Albert  had  been  accomplished  and  they  had 
reached  the  vicinity  of  Duck  Lake  where  the  Rebels 
had  perpetrated  their  first  massacre,  the  infantry 
troops  took  a  steamer  to  Battleford,  while  the 
cavalry  held  across  the  "big  bend"  to  the  same  des- 
tination. From  this  point  they  again  took  up  their 
across-country  march. 

So  uneventful  was  the  journey  that  Gilroy  began 
to  chafe  under  its  quite  monotony. 

"I  declare  this  is   stupid!"  Gilroy  reittcrated    as 

they  marched  on  hour  after  hour  with  not  even  the 

promise  of  the  smallest  excitement  or  diversion. 

Rodney,  however,  quite  enjoyed  the  change  from 
10 


i3« 


THE    YOUNG    NKWSrAl'EK    SCOUT. 


the  feverish  excitement  which  lie  liad  been  under 
ever  since  that  first  brush  vvitli  tlie  Half  Hreed 
scouts  in  the  vicinity  of  Clark's  Crossing.  It  gave 
him  time  "to  do  a  little  thinking,"  as  he  expressed 
it. 

As  they  pitched  camp  one  day  in  the  vicinity  of 
Ft.  Pitt,  where  another  massacre  had  occurred,  Lieu- 
tenant Johns  approached  their  tent  with  the  excla- 
mation: 

'•Heard  the  news,  Gilroy?" 

"No;  What  is  it?  Almost  any  excitement  would 
be  an  improvement  upon  this  dead  calm." 

•'They  say  that  Steele's  scouts  have  encountered 
Big  Bear  and  had  a  lively  brush  with  his  braves. 
The  old  chief  has  put  out  in  the  direction  of  the  North 
pole  and  we  are  to  follow  post  haste. 

'iGood!  Good!"  exclaimed  Gilroy.  "Anything  to 
break  up  the  monotony!  And  so  we're  to  give  the 
old  rascal  a  lively  chase,  are  we?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  how  lively  it  will  be,  for  it's 
going  to  be  mighty  hard  work  to  push  through  the 
dense  timber  to  which  the  Indians  have  taken.  Of 
course  they'll  keep  through  the  thickest  of  it,  know- 
ing that  it  will  almost  be  impossible  for  troops  to 
follow  with  any  chance  of  overtaking  them.  But 
that's  a  great  country  up  there,  and  worth  one's 
while  to  see  it,"  returned  the  lieutenant. 

"Yes;  and  I'm  not  so  sure  about  there  being  no 
chance  of  overtaking  the  redskins.  If  they  are 
loaded  down  with  their  winter's  catch  of  skins,  they 
will  not  make   such  rapid   progress  themselves  and 


ON   THl-:   TKAII.   in-    lilU    lU'AU, 


139 


l.ic  will  stop  sooner  than  \'ou  think.  I  wouldn't 
l)c  suri»risccl  il  they  went  no  I'urthcr  th.in  those 
lakes  up  there." 

"We'.e  i^oin;^-  to  i)iish  rii^ht  throuL^^h,  as  far  as 
there's  an\'  e;'.iMh!)'  use,  lor  the  government  is  bound 
to  punish  the  Indians  severely  who  have  dii)ped  into 
this  muss,"  res[)onded  the  lieutenant,  as  he  took 
his  Iea\e. 

"Of  eourse,"  soliloquizeil  Gilroy.  "The  Indians 
may  cacJic  their  skins  if  they  think  they  arc  ^.jettin^ 
hard  presseil.  lUit  they'll  hani;  onto  'em  as  loni;  as 
the\' can.  Tell  you  what,  lad,  wouldn't  it  be  ^reat 
luck  to  run  onto  that  <v/r//(' of  skins?  It  would  l)C 
the  next  best  thini;  to  your  luck  in  helpini;  to  capt- 
lue  Riek  You're  such  a  lucky  (\()'^  that  it  would  be 
just  like  )'ou  to  fall  rii^ht  into  that  .  .rJic  bodily. 
Hut  if  \'ou  should,  I  want  to  be  in  it  with  \'ou,"  and 
(jilroy  lauL;lietl  <4enerously  at  this  seemini^ly  envious 
s[)eech. 

AlthouL^h  R(3ilneyhad  anticii)ated  that  thcjour- 
ne\'  wouKl  be  a  difficult  one,  the  actual  progress 
which  they  made  seemetl  unaccountably   slow. 

Much  of  the  way  they  were  obli<^'ed  to  wait  for 
the  axeman  to  cut  down  trees  ami  remove  logs  from 
out   the  way. 

It  was  in  following  this  narrow  trail  that  Rodney 
^vst  discovered  the  antipathy  in  which  the  regular 
jops  seemed  to  hold  the  scouts. 

While  going  through  the  thickest  portion  of  the 
timber  the  scouts  were  ordered  to  push  on  ahead  of 
the  regulars. 


140 


THE    YOUNG   NEWSPAFER    SCOUT. 


Whenever  Rodney  attempted  to  pass  a  regular, 
the  latter  would  not  yield  Pink-eye  a  foot  but  would 
crowd  the  latter  close  acrainst  the  trees. 

The  piebald  animal  endured  this  treatment — to 
which  the  horses  of  all  the  scouts  were  subjected — 
for  a  time  in  patience;  but  finally  one  trooper  rather 
overdid  the  crov/ding  and  jammed  Pink-eye  against 
a  rough  tree-trunk  in  a  way  that  aroused  the  ire  of 
the  pugnacious  shaganappy. 

The  boisterous  laugh  of  the  trooper  was  sud- 
denly nipped  in  the  bud  by  the  ferocious  squeal  of 
o'  ""  '•  eye,  as  he  laid  back  his  ragged  ears  and 
plantnii^  his  teeth  into  the  thigh  of  the  offending 
horseman. 

The  latter  plied  a  terrific  blow  upon  the  Roman 
nose  of  Rodney's  pony  but  it  did  not  save  him 
from  receiving  scars  which  he  would  carry  to  his 
grave. 

With  an  oath  the  trooper  pulled  out  his  revolver 
and  would  have  shot  down  the  horse  had  not  Rod- 
ney grabbed  the  weapon  and  at  the  same  time  drawn 
his  own. 

"  It  was  your  own  fault  that  my  horse  bit  you, 
now  take  your  punishment  like  a  man,  "  Rodney 
exclaimed,  expecting  that  the  man  would  break  out 
into  a  fit  of  passion.  But  he  seemed  to  regard  Rod- 
ney's revolver  with  a  wholesome  awe. 

Rodney  appreciated  that  he  was  in  a  difficult 
position.  He  could  not  remain  behind  or  ride 
beside  the  trooper,  and  if  he  passed  on  ahead  it 
would   give  the  fellow  an  opportunity   to  vent  his 


liar, 
)uld 

-to 
id- 
[her 
inst 
i  of 

;ud- 
lof 
and 


ing 


nan 
1  i  in 
his 

ver 
od- 
Lwn 

ou, 
icy 

DUt 

od- 

:Lilt 
ide 
1  it 
his 


ON   THE   TRAIL   OF   BIG   BEAR. 


141 


-»; 


B'i 


v» 


wrath  in  any  way  that  he  might  choose.  He  deter- 
mined to  put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter  and  go  ahead 
as  though  nothing  had  happened.  Therefore  he 
said  nothing  and  pushed  on. 

Again  the  fellow  crowded  the  shoulder  of  his 
horse  against  the  flank  of  Pink-eye. 

If  Rodney  had  not  been  thoroughly  alert,  the 
consequences  of  this  repetition  of  the  troopers  offense 
might  have  resulted  as  seriously  for  him  as  for  the 
cavalry  man,  for  Pink-eye  took  a  quick  step  in 
advance  and  then  dealt  the  trooper's  horse  a  kick  in 
the  side  which  not  only  made  havoc  with  the  animal's 
ribs,  but  inflicted  with  the  sharp  "corks"  of  one 
shoe  a  savage  gash  into  the  flesh  of  the  fellow's  calf. 

Rodney  heard  the  cry  of  pain  which  the  man 
uttered,  but  did  not  pause  ^:  investigate  matters  be- 
yond a  hasty  glance,  which  showed  him  that  the 
fellow  still  retained  his  seat  in  the  saddle. 

When  he  joined  Gilroy  in  the  advance  and 
related  the  episode,  the  latter  said: 

"Served  the  wretch  right;  but  you'd  better  keep 
a  sharp  eye  on  the  fellow  after  this,  for  ten  to  one 
he'll  l:ry  to  have  his  revenge  on  you  for  the  results 
of  his  own  meanness." 

"But  I  did  nothing  to  him  myself,"  answered 
Rodney. 

"Of  course!  But  don't  you  know  that  we  hate 
those  whom  we  have  wronged  worse  than  those  who 
have  wronged  us?  It's  always  that  way.  You'd 
better  look  out  for  him.  I'll  warrant  he'll  try  to  do 
up  your  horse." 


142 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


"That  would  be  meaner  than  trying  to  have  his 
revenge  on  me  directly,"  was  Rodney's  quiet  reply, 
as  he  sou<Tht  to  stifle  the  anger  that  burned  in  him  at 
the  thought. 

Although  Rodney  kept  a  careful  watch  upon  the 
trooper  and  Old  Pink-eye,  he  could  find  nothing  to 
confirm  Gilroy's  unpleasant  suspicions,  until  his 
fears  gradually  abated. 

One  evening  camp  was  pitched  on  the  spot  where 
Old  15ear  and  his  followers  had    previously  camped. 

The  recollection  of  the  conversation  about  the 
rumored  cache  came  to  Rodney,  and  as  there  was  a 
bright  moon  he  determined  to  amuse  himself  by 
looking  about  for  it. 


CHAPTER   XV. 


THE    CACHE. 


AFTER  wanderiiiL^  about  for  some  time,  pcerinc^ 
into  every  covert  which  seemed  to  sugi^est  tlic 
possibility  of  affordiiiLj  conceahnent  for  tlie  cache 
and  poking  under  logs  and  brush-heaps,  Rodney  sat 
down,  muttering: 

''What's  the  use?  I  couldn't  find  it  in  broad 
daylight,  and  there's  not  the  slightest  use  in  attempt- 
ing to  now.  I'd  better  go  back  to  the  tent."  l^ut 
as  he  sat  there  in  the  deep  quiet  of  the  great  woods, 
with  the  soft  moonlight  filtering  down  through  the 
tasseled  branches  of  the  pines,  his  thoughts  drifted 
from  the  object  which  had  brought  him  there  into 
vague  dreams  of  home,  old  playmates,  the  won- 
derful future  and  the  wild  majestic  beauty  of  the 
northern  forest.  He  wonderered,  too,  what  had 
happened  to  the  little  Half  Breed  girl  whom  he  had 
found  on  the  shelf  of  rock  near  Fish  Creek,  and  he 
tried,  by  shutting  his  eyes  tightly,  to  recall  the  exact 
image  of  her  face,  which  he  remembered  as  ver\' 
bright  and  pleasing,  if  not  beautiful.  How  strange 
it  would  be  if  they  should  some  time  meet  again 
in  after  life,  and  he  should  find  her  grown  to 
a  beautiful  young  woman  and — ! 

His  romance  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  the 
sound  of  a  light  tread. 

143 


144 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER   SCOUT, 


Instantly  he  was  alert  and  listcnini^  intently,  his 
fingers  tightened  about  his  rifle  which  had  been 
resting  loosely  across  his  knees.  The  sound  being 
in  the  direction  opposite  from  the  camp  he  naturally 
concluded  that  it  was  not  caused  by  any  of  the 
soldiers  or  their  stock,  but  by  some  wild  animal.  As 
the  animal  was  to  the  windward  from  him  he  con- 
cluded that  he  was  safe  from  detection,  and  that  he 
might  be  able  to  obtain  a  shot  at  the  unknown  deni- 
zen of  the  woods  if  he  did  not  alarm  it  by  some  noise. 
Ihe  tread  seemed  to  continue  for  several  yards  and 
then  pause.  lie  listened  more  carefully  than  before, 
expecting  that  the  animal  had  stopped  to  listen  for 
signs  of  alarm  and  would  resume  its  journey  after  a 
brief  pause.  But  instead  of  again  hearing  its  tread 
Rodney  caught  the  sound  of  cautious  scratching,  as 
though  the  animal  had  discovered  a  hidden  victim, 
which  it  could  not  reach  without  digging  through 
leaves,  brush  and  earth. 

With  slow  and  stealthy  footsteps  Rodney  ap- 
proached towards  the  author  of  the  noise.  He  scarcely 
expected  to  get  a  fair  view  of  the  animal,  although  the 
timber  was  not  as  thick  as  he  had  anticipated.  Step 
by  step  he  picked  his  way  along  as  "gingerly"  as 
though  returning  from  a  truant's  frolic  and  endeav- 
oring to  reach  the  safety  of  his  bed  without  awaken- 
ing the  household. 

Quite  unexpectedly  he  soon  found  himself  at  the 
edge  of  a  small  clearing  in  the  center  of  which  stood 
the  ruins  of  a  deserted  log  cabin,  probably  erected 
years  before  by  some  trapper,  or  possibly  by  a  band 


TUF    CACI'E. 


145 


his 

ecu 
int( 
illy 
tlic 
As 
on- 
hc 
eni- 
)ise. 
and 


of  prospectors  or  siir\"c\-ors.  Tlu'  rot)f  was  fallen  in 
and  the  nujonliLjht  Hooded  the  interior  of  its  log 
walls  almost  as  bri^htl)'  as  their  exterior. 

"That  scratchini^  comes  from  inside —there's  tuj 
doubt  al)()nt  that!  lUit  the  next  thini,^  is  to  steal  a 
march  on  the  animal  w  ithout  frii^hteninL;'  it  a\va\'," 
rellectcd  Rodnc\',  who  would  also  ha\e  experienced  a 
certain  relief  in  kncjuini;  'the  nature  of  the  brute," 
which  he  was  after  before  encounterin<j  it.  Nevertiie- 
less  he  did  not  hesitate,  but  crept  softly  alon_<]^,  behind 
the  low  Inishes  whichsprinkled  the  clearing;  tow  artl  a 
sj:)ot  from  which  he  conld,  through  the  doorwav'  ol 
the  cabin,  command  a  full  x'iewof  the  interior. 

At  first  lie  could  see  only  the  "hind  quarters"  of 
the  anim.d,  which  appeared  to  be  about  the  size  ui  a 
larg'e  doij^,  only  not  so  tall. 

"I  wonder  w  hat  the  brute's  after,''  thout^ht  Rodney 
as  he  shifted  his  position  so  as  to  obtain,  if  possible,  a 
view  of  the  animal's  head.  "Probably  he's  found 
the  remains  of  an  old  barrel  of  salt  pork — or  has 
had  a  streak  of  luck  and  captured  a  larc^er  victim 
than  he  could  eat  at  once  and  has  buried  it  there  for 
safe  kcepin<^.  lUit  it's  a  cpieer  place  for  an  animal 
to  cache  anj'thinL,^" 

These  thoui^hts  Hashed  throu^c^h  his  mind  as  he 
raised  his  rifle,  rested  it  ox'er  a  stum[),  took  deliber- 
ate aim  and  fired.  Seeint;"  ti  at  his  shot  had  been 
instantly  fatal,  he  ran  cpiickly  toward  the  cabin, 
but  his  miml  was  full  of  a  new  thought. 

"Ves;  it  is  a  strani^e  place  for  wild  animals  to 
cac/ic   anything--- but    quite   a    natural     place    for  a 


146 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


human  beinc^  to  select  as  a  concealment  for 
valuables," 

Although  he  had  never  seen  a  live  wolverine 
before,  he  had  seen  their  pelts  at  the  post,  and 
knew  that  the  dead  animal  was  of  this  varietv. 

He  did  not  pause,  however,  to  make  any 
extended  examination  of  his  prize.  Pulling  it 
hastily  to  one  side  he  began  an  eager  search  of  the 
stop  where  the  animal  had  been  digging. 

It  was  in  a  corner  of  the  cabin  where  the  frame  of 
a  rude  bunk  still  stood,  filled  with  the  debris  of  pine 
boughs,  which,  when  fresh,  had  formed  a  soft  and 
fragrant  bed  for  the  inhabitant  of  the  cabin. 

Rodney  fell  rapidly  to  work  cleaning  out  this 
bunk,  keeping  a  careful  lookout  for  the  first  shining 
speck  of  fur  that  should  confirm  his  suspicion  that 
the  cache  was  beneath.  But  no  glimpse  of  this 
kind  rewarded  his  efforts. 

"I  guess  I'll  poke  around  in  there  with  a  stick 
a  little  and  then  go  home,"  thought  Rodney,  as  he 
took  up  a  pole  and  thrust  it  at  random  into  the 
bunk. 

"I  declare  it  feels  as  though  the  bottom  was  laid 
with  logs  like  a  corduroy  road  !"  he  mentally  ex- 
claimed, as  his  stick  reached  the  bottom. 

He  poked  again  and  once  more  the  point  of  his 
stick  seemed  to  glance  from  a  rounding  surface  and 
wedge  itself  between  two  pieces  of  timber.  His 
curiosity  was  now  thoroughly  aroused  and  he  began 
to  throw  out  the  debris  with  a  will 

As  he  expected,  he  found  a  corduroy  bottom  to 


rs*f.^"*wi  I '  i  m0  mm  ■   "*' 


THE    liREAT     KIND. 


TlIK    CAClIi:. 


M7 


J 


the  bunk,  :u\(\  his  heart  heat  quick  with  excitement 
as  he  pried  the  end  of  one  ol  tlie  small  k)gs  loose 
and  lilted  it  u\). 

lie  could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes  at  the  result; 
hut  a  thrust  of  his  stick  a^j^ainst  the  substance  beneath 
coukl  leave  no  room  for  further  doubt.  He  certain- 
ly /i</(/  discovered  the  an/ic  of  Big  Bear's  winter 
catch  of  skins  ! 

The  other  covcrin_<:js  were  quickly  lifted  and 
'  jvcaled  to  Rodney  a  surface  of  otter,  beaver,  lynx, 
bear  and  fox  skins. 

As  he  continued  to  throw  bundle  after  bundle  of 
the  rich  pelts  out  of  the  secret  \ault  in  which  i^ii; 
Bear's  scpiaws  had  buried  them,  he  maile  a  running 
count  of  their  value,  as  he  had  often  done  in  hand- 
ling the  skins  for  Leve(iue,  at  the  iludson  J5ay  Post, 
at  home. 

l^ut  at  last  his  arms  began  to  tire,  and  he  paused 
for  rest. 

"Well,  Vvc  taken  out  at  least  five  hundred  tlol- 
lars'  worth,  and  no  signs  of  striking  bottom  yet!"  was 
his  mental  comment. 

It  then  occurred  to  him  that  he  had  been  absent 
some  time  from  camp,  and  that  he  must  return  or 
become  an  object  of  anxiety  to  Gilroy. 

He  had  no  difficulty  in  tracing  his  way  back  to 
camp,  for  the  moon  was  still  shining  clearly,  and  he 
had  been  careful,  in  coming,  to  select  certain  promi- 
nent landmarks  to  serve  him  as  sure  guides  in  his 
return. 

"Great  Scotland!  Lad,   where  have    you    beei?" 


148 


rilK    YOUNC;    NEWSI'AI'KR     SCOUT. 


vv.'is  Gilroy's  almost  impatient  greeting,  as  Rodney 
entered  tiieir  tent. 

"Oh,  I've  been  hunting  a  little  on  my  own  hook." 

"Hut  1  don't  see  any  great  amount  of  game," 
interrupted  Gilroy. 

"No-  but  I  shot  a  wolverine,  just  the  same!  And 
that  was  not  all  that  I  bagged,  either,"  was  Rodney's 
mysterious  rejjly. 

Then  he  related  his  adventure  and  the  discovery 
to  which  it  had  led. 

"l?ut  what  am  I  to  do  about  it?"  he  inquired,  after 
he  had  finished  the  narrative. 

Gilroy  remained  silent  for  some  time  and  then 
replied: 

"That  is  something  which  you  must  decide  for 
yourself.  The  skins  belong  to  the  Indians,  but  you 
may  be  sure  that  they  will  ne\er  ha\e  an  ()i)portu- 
nity  to  return  and  resurrect  them.  If  the  pelts  were 
to  remain,  they  would  probably  be  destroyed  by 
wolverines  and  other  similar  animals,  as  you  have 
had  proof  to-night.  If  you  were  a  regular  soldier 
or  scout,  it  would  be  your  duty — in  the  theory  at  least 
— toreport  the  find  to  your  commander,  and  let  him 
take  possession  of  them  as  goods  of  the  enemy. 
But  you  are  not  bound  by  this  rule,  for  you  are  not 
even  a  regular  scout,  but  simply  a  private  person 
traveling  with  the  army  in  a  private  capacity.  I  don't 
see  why  the  skins  don't  belong  to  you  more  than 
to  anyone  else." 

"But  on  that  principle  they  belong  to  you,  for  I 
am  working  for  you  in  even  a  stricter  sense  than  any 


Till'.    CACIIK. 


149 


soUlicr  is  working;  for  his  coniniaiulcr,"  rcpl  1 
Rodney. 

"No,  that  principle  don't  hold  in  i)rivatc  business. 
It's  your  ^ood  luck,  and  I  don't  sec  any  reason  why 
you  should  not  replace  the  skins  as  you  found  them, 
f^o  on  as  thoui^h  nothin<^r  h^d  happenetl,  ami  when 
the  rebellion  is  over  come  back  and  ^et  them.  At 
any  rate,  I'd  sleep  over  the  business  and  decide  it  in 
the  mornint^." 

Rodney  decided  to  act  ui)on  this  last  bit  of  ad- 
vice, and  stretched  out  upon  his  blanket. 

But  instead  of  "slecpin*^  over  it"  he  lay  awake, 
hour  after  hour,  dcbatini^  the  problem  pro  and  con. 
One  moment  it  seemed  that  this  fortune  was  his  by 
right  of  discovery.  Then  would  come  up  the  fact 
that  they  were  not  his — that  he  would  be  getting 
"something  for  nothing;"  taking  that  for  which  he 
had  rendered  no  cciuivalent.  It  was  not,  however, 
until  he  began  to  plan  how  he  should  dispose  of  the 
skins,  provided  he  should  follow  Gilroy's  suggestion, 
that  the  matter  seemed  to  put  itself  in  a  decisive 
light. 

"Suppose,"  he  asked  himself,  "the  trader  to 
whom  I  might  take  the  furs  should  ask  me  how  I 
came  by  them.  I  could  not  tell  him  that  I  had 
either  caught  them  or  bought  them." 

This  questionable  view  of  the  matter  presented 
itself  to  Rodney  each  time  he  counted  up  the  fort- 
une which  was  within  his  easy  grasp. 

When  he  arose  in  the  morning  Gilroy  greeted 

him  with  the  question: 
II 


150 


THE   YOUXG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


"Well,  have  you  settled  it?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "I  thought  that 
if  I  took  the  furs  to  a  trader  and  he  should  ask  me 
whether  I  had  caught  or  bought  them  I  could  make 
no  reasonable  and  honest  answer.  lie  would  natur-. 
ally  think  that  I  had  got  them  by  questionable 
means — and  I  think  he  would  be  about  right,  too. 
So  I'm  going  to  report  it  to  the  general  and  let  him 
take  possession  of  them." 

"Yes — and  distribute  them  among  his  relatives 
and  pets,"  was  Gilroy's  ungracious  rejoinder. 

""  hat  will  be  for  him  to  settle.  It  seems  the 
nearest  right  of  anything  that  I  should  put  it  into 
his  hands,  so  that's  what  I'm  going  to  do  this  morn- 
ing," was  the  boy's  determined  reply.  He  put  this 
resolution  into  action  as  soon  as  breakfast  was 
over. 

After  some  delay  he  was  admitted  into  the  pres- 
ence of  the  general,  who  received  him  in  a  brisk, 
short  way,  which  would  have  quite  disheartened  the 
sensitive  boy  had  he  come  to  ask  a  favor  instead  of 
to  do  a  duty. 

After  he  had  delivered  his  information  the  com- 
mander's manner  mellowed  perceptibly  and  he  com- 
plimented Rodney  upon  the  high  sense  of  honor 
and  integrity  which  he  had  shown.  Then  he  called 
certain  of  his  staff  and  requested  Rodney  to  direct 
them  to  the  cabin. 

They  found  the  pelts  unmolested,  and  when  they 
were  all  out  Rodney  estimated  them  to  value  at 
least  one  thousand  dollars.      But  as  he  saw  them 


THE    CACHE. 


151 


carried  safely  away  to  the  f^eneral's  tent  he  had  no 
repjrets  for  tlic  decision  lie  had  made. 

When  he  returned  to  Gilroy  aji^ain  the  latter  said: 

"Roilney  you  won't  mind  my  telling  you  that  I 
have  a  very  deep  admiration  for  your  action  regard- 
ing the  cacJic.  It  was  something  that  not  one  man 
in  a  thousand  would  have  done." 

"It  seemed  the  right  thing  to  do,  that  was  all," 
was  Rodney's  simple  reply,  as  he  went  about  his 
duties  and  tried  to  dismiss  the  subject  from  his  mind. 

"Well,  I  shall  see  to  it  that  that  lad  has  a  chance 
to  bring  out  all  that  there  is  in  him  and  I  believe 
that  he  will  make  a  first-class  ncvvspaper  man!"  re- 
flected Gilroy. 

An  hour  later  the  march  was  resumed,  and  as 
they  made  their  slow  progress  through  the  woods 
Rodney  fell  to  wondering  what  adventure  would  next 
claim  their  attention. 

"I  declare  it  seems  to  me  that  I  have  lived  years 
instead  of  about  two  months  since  we  marched  out 
of  Ft.  Qu'Appelle,  that  day,"  he  remarked  to  Gilroy, 
who  rode  next  him. 

"You  have,  to  all  practical  purposes,  for  it  is  ex- 
perience, not  years,  that  ages  us." 

"Do  you  really  think  that  I  have  changed  much 
since  you  first  saw  me?"  eagerly  inquired  Rodney. 

"Yes;  very  much — even  in  appearance.  You 
were  just  a  boy  then-  -and  a  very  shy  and  bashful  one 
at  that.  Nov/  you  have  the  development  resulting 
from  an  amount  of  hard  worldly  experience  which 
few  young  men  ten  years  your  senior  can  boast  of— 


mm' 


152 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


and  it  will  all  count  for  its  full  value  in  helping  you 
along  in  the  world,  too.  There's  no  profession  in 
which  an  experience  of  this  sort  counts  for  so  much 
as  in  the  newspaper  business,"  replied  Gilroy. 


■V,,'!   ' 


i 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  NIGHT  ALARM. 


THE  progress  of  the  troops  grew  rapidly  more 
difficult  and  the  services  of  the  "cutters"  were 
inconstant  demand. 

"If  we  crawl  along  at  this  pace  Big  Bear  will 
have  about  a  thousand  miles  the  start  of  us,"  was 
Lieutenant  Johns'  discouraged  comment  as  he  rode 
past  Gilroy  and  Rodney. 

"It  does  begin  to  look  considerable  like  a  wild 
goose  chase,  I  must  admit,"  replied  Gilroy,  whom 
any  delay  rendered  decidedly  restless. 

But  Rodney  was  enjoying  it  keenly.  The  fresh 
"springy"  smell  of  the  dense  verdure  charmed  and 
soothed  him  after  the  wearing  excitement  of  the 
scenes  through  which  he  had  passed. 

"I'd  just  like  to  leave  off  this  hunting  human 
game  and  take  to  fishing  and  hunting  wild  animals 
for  a  while.  Wouldn't  this  be  a  glorious  place  to 
trap  and  hunt  in,  when  the  season  is  on,  though!" 
exclaimed  Rodney,  his  eyes  blazing  with  enthusiasm. 

"  Yes;  it  would  certainly  be  first  rate.  But  when 
it  comes  to  hunting,  if  I'm  going  in  for  it  at  all  I 
want  to  go  in  all  over,  and  not  stop  short  of  the 
Musk-ox  region  about  Hudson  Bay.  There's  the 
place  to  hunt — if  the  few  travelers  who  have  ex- 
plored   that   region     can  be  at   all  believed,    and  I 


154 


THE    YOUNG    NKWSFAPEK    SCOUT 


honkonc  who  has  been  there  vvlio  can  be  re- 
lied on.  If  I  live  long  enou<^li  and  don't  jret  settled 
down  to  a  desk  before  having  my  fill  of  roxing,  I'm 
going  to  spend  a  season  knocking  around  uj)  there." 

*'  I  suppose  it's  an  awful  hard  life,  at  best,  that  one 
would  lead  there;  but  I  can  think  of  nothing  more 
interesting.  No  books  of  adventure  ever  interested 
me  half  as  much  as  those  about  the  Arctic  regions, 
and  I  think  it  is  the  same  with  other  boys,"  said 
Rodney. 

"Yes;  I  guess  the  preference  is  almost  universal 
among  boys.  It  was  that  way  with  me  at  least,"  re- 
plied Gilroy  meditatively. 

"  What  do  you  think  is  the  reason  for  it?"  resumed 
Rodney. 

*'  Well,  I  don't  know — unless  it  is  because  the  most 
commonplace  and  insignificant  details  of  existence 
are  attended,  by  reason  of  the  extreme  cold,  with 
great  danger.  Or,  in  other  words,  the  natural  and 
inevitable  perils  in  such  a  climate  are  so  thick  that 
the  narrator  does  not  have  to  strain  after  perilous 
situations,  and  consequently  his  story  is  more  vivid 
and  realistic." 

"That's  a  fact,  but  I  never  thought  it  out  before. 
The  adventures  laid  in  the  temperate  and  torrid 
zones  always  did  seem  more  strained  and  far-fetched 
to  me  than  narratives  of  Arctic  exploration  and 
adventure.  But  hunting  even  the  musk-ox  wouldn't 
quite  satisfy  me.  It  would  take  a  real  live  polar 
bear  to  do  that,"  replied  Rodney. 

"Well,"    laughed    Gilroy,    "when    wc  make    our 


THE    NIGHT   ALARM. 


155 


Artie  exploration  I'll  see  that  a  polar  bear  is  pro- 
vided for  your  express  benefit,  without  regard  to 
expense." 

"All  right,  I'll  not  forget  to  remind  you  of  it," 
promptly  answered  Rodney,  joining  in  the  laugh  at 
the  absurdity  of  the  entire  supposition. 

The  drift  of  the  conversation  was  suddenly 
changed  by  the  halting  of  the  advanced  horsemen, 
and  Rodney's  exclamation:  "Look  at  that  boy! 
What  can  we  be  coming  to?" 

"Muskegs— rat  houses!  And  a  sweet  time  we'll 
have  getting  across  them,  too!"     explained    Gilroy. 

Subsequent  events  fully  justified  this  view  of  the 
situation,  for  not  only  did  every  man  have  to  dis- 
mount, but  those  having  any  considerable  luggage 
were  obliged  to  cut  long  poles  and  construct  "trav- 
oils,"  upon  which  the  baggage  was  dragged  across 
the  wide  and  treacherous  swail,  which  was  spotted 
with  the  "muskegs." 

It  was  a  tedious  proceeding  and  one  that  all  were 
delighted  to  have  safely  over. 

When  it  was  accomplished  they  found  themselves 
on  what  was,  save  for  the  nai  row  strip  or  isthmus 
over  which  they  had  crossed,  an  island. 

"Here  we  are  at  Loon  Lake  at  last,  and  not  a 
sight  of  an  Indian  for  our  pains,"  grumbled  the  lieu- 
tenant, "and  what's  more  we're  not  likely  to  get 
one,  either— for  unless  I  miss  my  guess,  the  sly 
dogs'  have  been  cunning  enough  to  lead  us  on  this 
island,  just  to  cover  up  their  tracks  and  give  us  the 
sup. 


156 


THE    YOUNC;    Xr.WSrAI'KK     SCOUT 


The  island  was  a  wild  and  hcautifui  place  and 
Rodney  was  eaii^er  to  explore  it. 

"Who  knows  what  I  may  scare  up?"  he  said  to 
himself,  as  he  tcK)k  his  rille  and  set  out  alone. 

At  first  he  skirted  alonij  the  shore  admirini;"  the 
beauty  of  the  lake  and  watchini;-  for  loons  upon 
which  to  test  his  marksmanship.  Hut  not  one  was 
in  siij^ht,  and  althouf^h  it  was  the  proper  hour  for 
their  "far-soundini^"  cries,  he  could  hear  onl)'  the 
gentle  lapping  of  the  water  on  its  beach. 

Tiring  of  this,  he  turnetl  his  lace  toward  th'.' 
timbered  interior  of  the  islaml  and  began  to  search 
for  signs  of  an  oi)eninf  or  trail.  To  his  incat  sur- 
prise  he  found  what  seemed  to  be  the  faint  trace  of 
an  old  trail. 

*T'd  like  to  run  across  Big  lk\ar's  cnmp  and  pick 
up  something  that  has  been  left  behind,  just  to 
remember  this  tri[)  by,"  he  reilected,  as  he  made  a 
more  careful  examination  of  the  trail  and  satisfied 
himself  that  the  indications  were  certainly  promis- 


ing. 


Sometimes  the  trail  was  quite  apparent  and  at 
other  times  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that 
he  could  follow  it.  But  patience  and  close  attention 
enabled  him  to  keep  its  general  course;  and  when 
he  entered  the  woods,  and  followed  it  for  some  fifty 
rods,  he  was  surprised  to  find  himself  stumbling 
upon  the  ashes  of  Big  Bear's  extinct  camj)  fires, 
lie  at  once  began  to  search  about  for  some  keep- 
sake b}'  which  to  remember  their  chase  after  the 
famous  chief. 


THE    NIGHT    ALARM. 


157 


"Here  I  have  it!"  exclaimed  Rodney,  as  he 
picked  up  the  stone  IjowI  of  a  discarded  or  fort^otten 
pi[)e  and  put  it  into  liis  pocket. 

''W\  like  to  know  in  what  direction  they  set  out 
from  here,"  he  reflected,  and  be^^'in  to  search  about  for 
the  continuance  of  the  trail,  wliich  crossed  an  "open" 
and    then    disappeared    into    thick  timber  beyond. 

lie  had  but  just  reached  the  latter  when  the  trail 
became  so  obscure  that  he  was  comi)elled  to  stoop 
close  to  the  ground  and  exercise  all  the  woods-craft 
of  which  he  was  capable  in  t)rder  to  keep  the 
run  of  it. 

After  progressing;  for  some  time  in  this  slow  and 
difficult  position  he  paused  and  straightened  up  to 
relieve  his  aching  back. 

A  cry  of  horror  broke  from  his  lips  as  he  did  so 
and  he  started  back  in  terror;  but  after  retreating  a 
rod  or  two  he  regained  control  of  his  faculties  and 
checked  the  impulse  of  fear  to  which  he  had  tempo- 
rarily yielded. 

Not  a  yard  in  front  of  the  spot  where  he  had 
stopped  was  the  most  hideous  and  revolting  sight 
that  he  had  ever  looked  upon.  It  was  the  lifeless 
body  of  a  grizzled  old  scjuaw,  depending  by  a  lariat 
from  the  branch  of  a  tree.  This  scene  needed  no 
explanation.  Rodney  understood  it  instantly.  The 
other  Indians,  being  hard  pressed,  had  left  this 
decrepit  old  woman,  who  could  not  keep  up  the 
speed  at  w^hich  they  wished  to  travel,  on  the  island 
to  starve.  She  had  preferred  the  (juicker  death  by 
hanging  and  had  been  her  own  executioner. 


158 


THE    YOUNG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUl'. 


So  strong  a  hold  did  this  pitiful  tragedy  take 
upon  Rodney  that  he  involuntarily  sank  down  upon 
a  log  to  think  about  it. 

Here  was  a  feature  of  the  war  that  he  had  not 
taken  into  consideration.  \t  ^rst  the  cruelty  of  the 
I  idians  to  the  old  »n  •>  seemed  awful  and  filled 
him  with  an  indignat;/*;  lli-ic  would  have  welcomed 
an  opportunity  to  avcu^j  it^u-''f  upon  Big  Bear  and 
his  warriors;  but  as  he  thougiit  the  matter  over 
more  calmly  it  came  to  seem  that  the  responsibility 
for  this  cruelty  lay  as  much  with  those  who  had 
crowded  the  Indians  into  a  position  where  such  a 
proceeding  was  but  the  natural  outcome  of  their 
savage  instincts  and  training,  as  with  the  Indians 
themselves.  But  the  most  vivid  impression  which  it 
made  upon  the  sensitive  mind  of  the  boy  was  to 
intensify  the  feeling  to  which  every  engagem^^nt 
that  he  had  witnessed  had  contributed:  that  war 
was  so  terrible  a  thing,  and  caused  the  innocent,  as 
well  as  the  guilty,  so  much  suffering  that  it  was 
always  wrong  and  unjustifiable. 

The  cry  of  a  great  black  woodpecker  startled 
Rodney  from  his  reverie  and  he  hastened  back  to 
camp  to  relate  his  discovery  to  Gilroy. 

"Yes;  you're  right ;  it  will  work  up  into  a  good 
incident  for  the  papers.  It's  just  the  kind  of  thing 
they  want — something  to  harrow  up  the  feelings  of 
their  readers,  that's  all  that's  necessary.  Oh,  you're 
getting  your  newspaper  eyes  open  in  good  shape, 
boy!"  exclaimed  Gilroy,  with  patronizing  enthusi- 
asm as  he  listened  to  Rodney's  graphic  description 


v,>-7 


CAMP  SCENE   ON   THE   TRAIL   UV  UIG   HEAR. 


THE    NIGHT    ALARM. 


t;>i 


'■t 


of  tlic  appearance  of  tlic  suicide  aiul  his  feelitiijs  ,is 
lie  had  stumbled  upon  it. 

The  story  was  overheard  by  a  scout,  and  as 
Rodney  went  to  lead  Gilroy  to  the  spot  nearly  the 
entire  company  followed  him, 

"We'll  let  it  hanger  just  as  it  is,  so  that  if  Hii;  liear 
should  happen  back  this  way  he  may  see  the  result 
of  his  devilish  cruelty,"  remarked  the  commander  as 
they  turned  away  from  the  fearful  spectacle  and 
strolled  back  to  camp. 

"Look  here,  boys!"  exclaimed  one  of  the  scouts 
who  had  been  an  old  hunter  and  trapi)er,  "we'll  have 
smoke  to-n;j;ht,  sure!  This  is  wild  tea;  and  it's  the 
next  best  thinf]^  to  the  genuine  article— which  is 
?niglity  scarce  in  this  camp  so  far  as  I  know!" 

The  men  fell  to  stripping  the  leaves  from  the 
wild  tea  plants  and  did  not  return  to  camp  until  their 
pockets  were  well  filled.  Nearly  every  fire  that 
evening  had  a  rude  rack  of  some  sort  erected  over  it 
on  which  the  leaves  were  spread  to  cure.  Those 
who  were  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  few  leaves 
which  had  withered  and  dried  in  the  sun,  indulged 
their  appetite  without  delay.  This  seemed  to  revive 
a  general  spirit  of  companionship  and  every  man 
who  had  a  story  of  Indirn  adventure  told  it  to  his 
fellows  with  a  fresh  gest. 

When  Rodney  fell  asleep  it  was  to  dream  of  a 
strange  jumble  of  his  own  experience,  and  the 
exciting  perils  which  he  had  just  heard  rehearsed. 

He  was  in  the  midst  of  these  imaginary  dangers 
when  the  sharp  report  of  a  firearm  aroused  him.    He 


i6o 


THi:    VOUNG   NEWSPAPKK    SCOUT. 


leaped  to  his  feet  in  time  to  liciir  several  s  -^cessive 
(liseliarpes,  following:;  in  rapid  succession, 

"Indians!  The  Indians  are  on  us!"  he  shouted  in 
wild  confusion,  scarcely  knowing  what  he  said. 

Sei/.injT  his  rifle  he  rushed  in  the  direction  from 
which  the  shots  seemed  to  come.  In  this  move  lie 
was  followed  by  the  scouts. 

He  was  not  yet  thoroupjhly  awake  and  his  real 
surroundings  were  inextricably  confused  with  the 
imaginary  scene  of  his  dream. 

The  dim  outlines  of  a  figure  leaping  through  the 
brush  immediately  assumed  the  appearance  of  an 
Indian,  and  he  instantly  raised  his  rifle  to  fire. 

Just  as  he  was  about  to  press  the  trigger  a  strong 
hand  struck  down  the  barrel  of  his  rifle,  which  di.'r- 
chargcd  harmlessly  into  the  ground. 

"Not  so  fast,  boy!"  sternly  commanded  a  voice 
at  his  side,  which  he  recognized  as  belonging  to 
Lieutenant  Johns.  This  and  a  chorus  of  laughs 
near  by  brought  the  bewildered  lad  to  his  senses. 

"That's  no  Indian,"  continued  the  lieutenant. 

The  shout  of  "false  alarm!"  was  then  heard,  and 
they  hastened  to  join  the  increasing  group  about  the 
nearest  camp  fire  of  the  troopers.  The  men  were  all 
laughing  heartily.  Rodney  and  the  lieutenant  joined 
this  merriment  when  they  heard  the  explanation  of 
the  alarm. 

The  trooper  who  had  previously  suffered  merited 
punishment  at  the  heels  of  Old  Pink-eye,  had  stooped 
over  the  camp  fire  to  light  his  pipe  with  a  brand. 
The  pipe  had  slipped  from  his  lips   and  fallen  into 


THr.    NKiMT    ALARM. 


I6l 


III 


the  firr  from  which  tlic  fellow  had  stupidly  attempted 
t(»  hn.'k  it  with  the  butt  of  his  revolver,  which  the 
scorching  heat  forced  him  to  drop.  At  this  he 
had  fled  into  the  brush  while  the  dischar^nn^^  fire- 
arm scattered  the  embers  and  aroused  the  camp. 

After  the  fun  over  the  ludicrous  affair  had  sub- 
sided, Rotlney  returned  to  his  blanket,  devoutly 
thankful  that  the  lucky  stroke  of  the  lieutenant's 
had  spared  him  the  likelihood  of  turning  the  amus- 
ing episode  into  a  painful  tragedy. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE    RETURN. 


ALTHOUGH  Rodney  had  succeeded  in  locating 
the  site  of  Big  Bear's  camp  on  the  island,  the 
most  diligent  search  on  the  part  of  experienced 
scouts  failed  to  discover  the  course  by  which  the 
wily  chief  had  conducted  his  band  in  their  depart- 
ure. Several  days  were  consumed  in  this  fruitless 
search,  and  during  this  time  Rodney  found  excellent 
rifle  practice  in  shooting  at  the  loons,  which  fre- 
quented the  distant  end  of  the  island. 

As  he  returned  from  one  of  these  excursions 
Gilroy  greeted  him  with  the  exclamation: 

"Hurrah  for  home!  The  general  has  given 
orders  to  pull  up  in  the  morning  and  retrace  our 
steps  to  civilization.  That  means  that  the  chase 
after  Big  Bear  is  abandoned,  and  that  the  scouts 
will  disband  a^;  soon  as  they  reach  home. 

In  other  words  the  jig's  up,  and  there  will  be 
nothing  more  for  you  to  do  excepting  to  draw  your 
pay — which  I  will  give  you  when  we  get  to  Prince 
Albert,  for  when  we  were  there  I  sent  an  estimate  of 
the  amount  of  money  which  I  wanted  the  paper  to 
forward  there  for  my  use  when  we  returned.  Of 
course  it  will  cover  your  time  until  you  are  back  in 
Ft.  Qu'Appelle  again." 

162 


THE     RETURN. 


163 


Rodney  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  his  joy  at 
the  news  that  the  wretched  war  was  over  and  that 
he  was  soon  to  sec  his  mother   and  the  old  home 
a^c^ain.     He    was    heartily    sick   of    bloodshed,    and 
while   it  gave  him  a  glow  of  pride  and  satistaction 
to  count  up  the  snug  sum  of  money  which  he  had 
earned,  he  had  no  desire  to  increase  it  at  the  price 
of    the    continuance  of    the    rebellion.     Then   the 
thought  that  he  was  soon  to  see  his  mother  filled 
him  with   a  yearning   impatience  which  could  not 
tolerate  the  slightest  delay.     He  planned  to  surprise 
her  and  wondered  just  what  he  would  find  her  doing 
and  what  she  would  say  to  him  and  to  the  little  fort- 
une that  he  would  carry  home  with  him.     He  would 
first  lay  out  upon  the  table  the  money  from  Gilroy. 
Then,  after  she  had  looked  at  that  for  a  while,  he 
would  take  out   his  portion   of  the    reward  for  the 
capture  of  Ricl. 

"How  much  do  you  make  it — that  I  will  have 
coming  to  me?"     Rodney  ventured  to  ask  Gilroy. 

"Two  hundred  and  seventy-eight  dollar:?.  Why? 
Isn't  that  the  way  you  figure  it?" 

*T  didn't  make  it  quite  as  much  as  that,"  replied 
Rodney.  "Well  I  think  you'll  find  that  right.  I 
tried  to  allow  a  safe  margin  of  time  for  you  to  get 
home  in;  and  if  you  should  happen  to  make  it  in 
less  don't  send  any  of  the  pay  back.  It  would  be 
just  like  you  to,  though,"  laughed  Gilroy. 

The  march  back  to   Prince   Albert  was  quite  as 
deliberate  as  the  advance  over  the  same  trail,  not- 
withstanding the  fact  that  the  way  was    now   clear, 
12 


164 


THE   YOUNG   NEWSPAPER  SCOUT. 


through  the  timber,  for  them.  There  was  no  neces- 
sity for  haste,  as  in  the  advance,  and  the  animals 
were  wasted  by  short  rations  of  feed  and  by  hard 
work. 

But  at  la,.'  they  came  in  sight  of  Prince  Albert 
and  Rodney  and  Gilroy  hastened  to  the  bank  where 
they  found  the  remittance  awaiting  them. 

No  danger  which  the  pioneer  boy  had  been  through 
had  filled  him  with  greater  conscious  excitement  or 
given  him  quite  the  sense  of  manly  importance  that 
he  felt  as  he  counted  over  the  gold  and  silver  coin 
which  Gilroy  shoved  toward  him,  on  the  outer  ledge 
of  the  bank  counter.  His  first  attempt  to  count  it 
correctly  ended  in  a  confused  failure;  but  another 
trial  verified  the  accuracy  of  Gilroy's  count. 

The  cashier  handed  them  each  an  empty  coin  bag 
into  which  they  put  specie. 

"  Now,  Rodney,  let's  step  into  a  store  and  get 
a  good  buckskin  money-belt  that  you  can  wear  under 
your  clothes.  Then  you'll  be  all  right,"  suggested 
Gilroy. 

They  started  out  of  the  door  when  the  cashier 
called  them  back  and  said: 

'*  We've  received  from  the  government,  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars  for  a  scout  named  Rodney 
Merton.  It's  half  of  the  reward  for  the  capture  of 
Riel.  I  thought  I  heard  one  of  you  speak  the  name 
Rodney  just  now?" 

"Well  that's  luck!"  exclaimed  Gilroy.  "This 
lad  is  Rodney  Merton,  who,  with  young  Houri,  capt- 
ured   Riel.     I  don't  call  him  by  his  name  once  in  a 


THE     RETURN. 


165 


hundred  times  and  don't  know  what  possessed  mc 
to  just  now." 

Rodney's  identification  bcin^^  thus  satisfactorily 
established  by  Gilroy,  the  cashier  paid  over  the  re- 
ward to  the  delif^hted  and  astonished  boy,  who  had 
never  "handled"  as  much  money  before  in  all  his 
life. 

"  You  stay  here  while  I  go  out  and  get  the  belt. 
It  won't  do  for  you  to  show  up  all  that  money  in  any 
store,"  said  Gilroy,  who  soon  returned. 

The  cashier  opened,  from  within,  a  door  into  a 
private  apartment,  where  Rodney  and  Gilroy  re- 
paired to  fill  the  money-belt  and  adjust  it  securely 
under  his  clothing. 

As  Rodney  went  to  feed  and  water  Old  Pink-eye 
that  evening,  it  occurred  to  him  for  the  first  time 
that  the  faithful  old  animal  belonged  to  Gilroy  and 
that  on  the  morrow  they  would  probably  part  com- 
pany forever. 

"  Yes  and  my  saddle,  rifle  and  revolvers  all  belong 
to  him,  too." 

"It  makes  me  sick  to  think  of  giving  them  all  up; 
they  've  come  to  seem  like  a  part  of  myself.  But  I 
could  stand  letting  all  go,  but  Old  Pink-eye— he  's 
like  an  old  friend  that's  stood  by  in  many  a  time  of 
need,"  mused  Rodney,  as  he  stroked  the  shaganap- 
py's  V-shaped  neck. 

"Well;  I  suppose  I'll  get  passage  over  the  trail 
to-morrow  with  some  teamsters  going  home,"  said 
he  to  Gilroy,  after  supper. 

"  Not  to  speak  of!"  exclaimed   Gilroy  in  aston- 


i66 


THE    YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


ishment  —  "  not  unless  you'd  rather  do  that  than  to 
ride  Old  Pink-eye!" 

"  15ut  the  horse  belongs  to  you  and  so  do  the 
revolvers  and  rifle  and  saddle,"  said  Rodney. 

"  Boy,  you've  earned  your  outfit,  by  what  might 
be  called  extra  usefulness,  many  times  over.  But 
do  you  suppose  that  I  could  ever  take  from  you  the 
horse  and  rifle  with  which  you  saved  my  own  life? 
Not  much!  They're  yours,  and  I  wish  I  could  throw 
in  a  farm  or  two  with  them;  but  I  can't.  However, 
I  don't  propose  to  lose  sight  of  you,  and  you  may 
depend  upon  hearing  from  me  as  soon  as  I  can  find 
a  good  opening  of  some  kind  for  you." 

Rodney  attempted  to  express  his  gratitude 
both  for  the  gifts  and  the  promise  of  future  assist- 
ance, but  the  genial,  big-hearted  newspaper  man 
would  not  listen  to  anything  of  the  kind. 

When  it  came,  in  the  morning,  to  the  actual 
moment  of  saying  good-bye  to  Gilroy,  the  lieutenant 
and  the  other  scouts  with  whom  he  had  happened  to 
become  most  intimate,  he  was  far  more  deeply 
affected  than  he  had  anticipated,  and  a  swelling 
lump  arose  in  his  throat  which  required  constant 
swallowing  "  to  keep  down." 

'•  I  shall  see  you  again  before  long — but  here's 
good-bye  'till  I  do,"  exclaimed  Gilroy,  with  a  warm 
pressure  of  the  lad's  hand;  "  and  if  you  should  want 
to  v^ite  me  for  anything,  here's  my  address,"  he 
added. 

Rodiw  y's  homeward  journey  was  not  only  full  of 
the  delights  of  anticipatio..  but  of   recollection  as 


THE     RETURN. 


167 


well,  for  his  route  "-as  over  the  same  road  by  which 
he  hd'^  come. 

At  Fish  Creek  he  could  not  refrain  from  visiting 
the  cabin  where  he  had  found  the  mother  of  the  lit- 
tle Half-Breed  girl,  and  was  surprised  to  learn  from 
the  mistress  of  the  cabin  that  the  mother  had  taken 
her  children  to  Ft.  Qu  'Appelle,  where  they  had  rela- 
tives. He  spent  much  time  in  wondering  who  the 
relatives  could  be  and  if  the  child  would  ever  play 
as  important  a  part  in  his  life  as  he  had  in  hers.  As 
he  passed  the  bog  in  which  Gilroy  had  so  ignomin- 
iously  floundered  on  the  occasion  of  their  foraging 
expedition  he  could  not  repress  a  hearty  laugh  at 
the  recollection  of  the  ludicrous  spectacle  which, 
they  had  both  presented,  and  this  was  brought  even 
more  vividly  before  him  when  the  dog  which  had 
given  them  such  an  exciting  chase  rushed  out  and 
barked  fiercely  at  the  heels  of  Old  Tink-eye. 

After  leaving  Clark's  Crossing  it  seemed  to  Rod- 
ney that  he  was  "almost  home,"  and  his  h^art  leaped 
with  pride  and  gratitude  to  think  how  different  wa' 
"his  present  home-coming  from  the  one  —  seemingl) 
years,  but  in  reality  not  four  months  ago — when  h^ 
had  tramped  over  the  road  from  Grenfell,  tired,  dis- 
couraged and  ashamed. 

Although  he  now,  as  then,  wished  that  he  m  j-ht 
pass  through  the  village  to  his  mother's  cabin  w  itli- 
out  being  seen  by  the  loafers  about  the  post  and  shop, 
how  different  was  the  motive  which  prompted  the 
wish  ! 

On  approaching  the  post  he  put  spurs  to  Pink- 


i68 


THE    YOUNG    NEWSPAPER     SCOUT. 


eye  and  cantered  rapidly  by,  noddin^^  hurriedly  to 
those  who  called  out  to  him  from  the  steps  and  doors 
as  he  passed. 

He  did  not  slacken  his  horse's  pace  until  in  front 
of  his  mother's  cabin.  Leaping  from  the  saddle,  he 
rushed  into  the  liouse. 

"Rodney!"  exclaimed  his  mother,  lifting  her 
hands,  sprinkled  with  flour,  from  the  bread  which 
she  was  kneading.  She  threw  her  arms  about  him, 
and  when  she  unclasped  them  there  were  tears  in  her 
eyes  as  well  as  in  his. 

*'  Dear) -me!  Just  see  how  I've  covered  you  with 
f^our,"  she  continued  ;  and  the  little  laugh  at  his 
dusty  appearance  relieved  the  embarrassment  and 
gave  them  an  opportunity  to  recover  the"  usual  com- 
posure. 

"Well,  mother,  I'm  back  again  all  right,  and 
here  's  what  I  have  to  show  for  it,"  said  l^odnc}' 
proudly,  as  he  unfastened  his  bulging  money-belt, 
drew  it  from  under  Lis  clothes,  and  arranged  the 
coin  upon  the  table.  "There's  just  a  hundred  dol- 
lars in  each  pile  excepting  the  little  one  of  t\\  cnty- 
eight  dollars.  Just  think  of  it!  0/ie  tJioiisaud  mid 
twenty-eiglit  dollars  in  three  months! 

Mrs,  Merton  gazed  at  the  shining  piles  of  gold 
eagles  for  some  time,  as  though  unable  to  com[)re- 
hend  the  value  of  so  much  money,  to  say  nothing 
of  realizing  the  fact  that  it  was  their  own. 

But  at  last  when  she  began  to  grasp  the  reality, 
she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  wept  as  he  hau 
seen  her  weep  but  few  times  before. 


to 
ors 


Jilt 


lier 


icl 


1111, 
lier 


ith 
his 
nd 


>ni- 


m 


d 


icy 
clt, 
the 
lol- 
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lao 


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0 


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Lw-l 


■'I 

H 

C 

0", 

y 

X 

Till'.     KF.TUKN. 


i6g 


"Don'tcry,  mother,"  he  said,  layini;  his  hand  ten- 
derly on  her  soft,  brown  hair.  "It's  all  yours — every 
dollar  of  it;  only  I  n-ant  you  to  use  part  of  it  in 
^oing  to  visit  your  folks  in  the  States  this  winter. 
There  will  be  plenty  left  for  that  after  payin<^  for 
the  place." 

She  made  no  reply;  but  Rodney  could  see  that 
she  did  not — as  he  feared  she  mit;ht— at  once  reject 
the  proposition  of  the  visit  to  Illinois. 

After  he  had  replaced  the  mone)'  in  the  belt  and 
secured  it  about  him,  he  took  his  mother  to  the  door 
to  exhibit  Old  Pink-eye,  the  rifle,  revolvers  and  the 
saddle  which  Gilroy  had  ^iven  him. 

"And  he's  going  to  get  me  a  good  place  on  a 
newspaper,  too,"  observed  Rodne)',  after  expatiating 
upon  the  merits  of  Gilroy  and  his  gifts. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


AN    INDEPENDENT   VENTURE. 


WHERE  had  \vc  better  kccptlie  money, mother?" 
was  the  perplexing   question   which   Rodney 
raised  alter  tethering  old  Pink-eye  out  to  graze. 

"Mercy  on  us — I  don't  know!  There's  no  bank 
here  and  I'd  be  afraid  to  hide  it  for  fear  some  one 
would  see  you  and  go  and  get  it." 

"I've  been  thinking  about  that.  How  would  it 
do  to  give  it  to  'Two-Cent  Tranquility'  for  safe- 
keeping. " 

"That's  just  right!"  promptly  replied  Mrs.  Mer- 
ton.  "He's  as  honest  as  the  day  is  long  and  as  cau- 
tious and  cunning  as  a  weasel,  I'd  rather  trust  it 
with  him  than  to  try  to  keep  it  ourselves." 

And  so  Rodney  ate  an  early  supper  and  went 
down  to  his  old  friend's  shop,  hoping  to  find  him 
alone.  But  in  this  he  was  disappointed,  for  a  young 
lumberman  was  waiting  for  a  boot  to  be  repaired 
and  before  this  was  done  one  after  another  of  the 
village  loafers  began  to  drop  in,  eager  to  hear  the 
news  "from  the  seat  of  war."  Rodney,  however, 
knew  that  if  he  once  began  to  relate  incidents  of 
the  war,  an  epidemic  of  story-telling  would  set  in 
and  he  would  have  no  chance  for  a  private  audience 
with  the  shoemaker  before  midnight.  He  gave  as 
brief  answers   as   possible    to    their    questions    and 

170 


AN    IN  I)  I'-.  I'  !•:  N  I)  K  NT    \'  [•:  N  Tl :  K  K 


171 


in 


cy 


mainlainccl  strict  silence  when  not  compelled  U) 
speak. 

This  unresponsive  course  had  its  desired  et'l'ect 
and  when  the  last  ot  his  questioners  took  leaw  it 
was  not  quite  nine  o'clock  hy  the  shoemaker's  round 
bull's-eye  watch,  which  had  ticked  awa)-  above  the 
bench  as  long  as  Rodney  could  remember. 

"Now  give  us  a  little  account  of  j'oursell,"  saiil 
the  old  shoemaker,  as  lie  tied  up  his  leather  apron 
and  put  it  away  in  the  bench  drawer,  from  which  he 
took  his  pii:)c  and  a  package  of  tobacccj,  i)reparatory 
to  giving  the  anticipated  narrative  his  s)'mi)athetic 
attention. 

When  Rodney  had  concluded  a  hasty  account  of 
his  adventures  the  old  man  reached  forward  his 
right  hand,  tapped  the  end  01  his  fingers  lightly 
upon  the  boy's  knee  and  exclaimed  : 

"Boy,  you've  done  well.  Your  own  father 
couldn't  have  done  better  !  Now,  how  much  have 
you  saved  and  what  are  you  going  to  do  with   it?" 

"Just  one  thousand  and  twenty-eight  dollars,  and 
I  am  going  to  pay  for  the  place  and  give  the  rest  to 
you  to  keep  for  me  until  mother  goes  back  to 
Illinois  to  visit  her  folks.  But  I'd  like  to  have  )'ou 
take  it  all  now,  for  mother  thinks  it  would  be  much 
safer  with  you  than  with  us." 

The  old  man,  flattered  by  this  confidence,  gladly 
accepted  the  responsibility  and  took  the  belt;  but 
insisted  upon  giving  Rodney  his  written  receipt  for 
the  mone)'. 

On  the  following  day    Rodney,  accompanied  by 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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Corporation 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

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172 


THE   VOUNG    NEWSPAI'EK    SCOUT. 


Toussaint  Tranquilitc,  visited  the  government  land 
agent,  paid  tlie  three  hundred  dollars  demanded  for 
a  clear  patent  of  title  to  the  farm,  and  returned  w.Ji 
the  precious  document  in  Rodney's  pocket. 

He  at  once  presented  it  to  his  mother,  who  took 
it  in  her  tremblini;  hands,  as  the  tears  [gathered  in 
her  eyes,  and  slowly  read  every  word  of  it. 

"Just  think  how  long  /le  worked  for  it — and  then 
never  got!  It  takes  away  the  biggest  part  of  the 
comfort  to  think  that  /ic  can't  be  here  to  ha\e  it 
himself." 

'•  But  then,  father's  pleasure  in  owning  the  home 
would  have  been  in  the  thought  that  you  and  1 
would  have  it  *to  fall  back  on'-  as  he  used  to  say; 
and  so  long  as  we  have  it  now  I'm  sure  he  would 
want  us  to  be  very  haj)py  in  it,"  cheerfully  observed 
Rodney. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  that's  so,"  assented  Mrs.  Merton 
with  a  readiness  quite  unlike  the  habitual  gloom  with 
which  she  had  come  to  receive  the  few  encouraginL"^ 
things  which  had  entered  into  her  life,  in  lateryears. 
This  symptom  of  increasing  hopefulness  was  more 
welcome  to  Rodney  than  the  most  flattering  pros- 
pect of  any  personal  success  and  he  felt  like  ex- 
claiming: 

"  Oh,  mother,  I'm  going  to  make  you  grow  young 
again,  yet! " 

For  several  days  Rodney  busied  himself  in  con- 
structing a  snug  stable  for  old  Pink-eye  and  "fixing 
things  up  generally"  about  the  place.  There  was  a 
comforting   sense    of   proprietorshi})    in    doing  this 


AN    IN n E I •  \: N I ) K N  1'    \- E N TU K E 


173 


which  f^avc  him  a  far  j:^rcatcr  pleasure  tlian  he  had 
ever  derived  in  makin<^  any  previous  iniprovenicnts. 
He  had  never  been  hapi^ier  before  and  he  sani;  and 
whistled  constantly  as  he  plied  his  hammer  and 
saw. 

But  although  his  hands  were  l)usily  employed  in 
this  work  his  thoui^hts  were  equally  busy  planning 
his  future. 

At  first  he  thought  that  he  would  at  once  write 
to  Gilroy  asking  his  assistance  in  securing  a  position 
upon  the  Montreal  paper.  But  here  his  manly  inde- 
pendence asserted  itse'f. 

"No,  sir!  I'll  get  one  myself.  I've  received 
enough  favors  from  him  already.  If  he  should 
write  to  me  offering  me  a  place,  //it?^  would  be  dif- 
ferent; but  I'll  try  faithfully  alone  first.  If  I  fail. 
it  will  be  time  enough  to  call  on  him  then,"  he  ex- 
claimed, with  the  enthusiasm  of  strong  conviction. 

How  to  begin  this  struggle  for  a  footing  was  the 
next  question,  and  a  difficult  one,  too.  Upon  care- 
ful reflection  he  decided  that  the  best  wiiy  was  to 
purchase  several  of  the  leading  Dominion  papers 
and  write  to  the  publishers  stating  his  experience  in 
the  rebellion,  referring  them  to  Gilroy,  and  request- 
ing a  trial  in  case  there  was  any  chance  for  him. 

The  next  out-going  post  carried  nearly  a  dozen 
carefully-worded  applications  to  the  principal  papers 
of  Winnepeg,  Ottawa,  Toronto,  Quebec  and  Mon- 
treal. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  told  himself  that  he 
could  not  expect    an    answe    from  even  the  nearest 


174 


THE    YOUNr,    NEWSPAPER     SCOUT. 


one  inside  of  ten  days,  a  week  found  him  an  anxious 
watcher  of  every  in-cominpj  post. 

Rut,  altliou^h  this  anxiety  daily  increased  until 
it  amounted  to  nervous  restlessness,  he  did  not  re- 
ceive a  reply  until  three  full  weeks  had  elapsed. 
The  others  followed  in  succession,  until  the  list  was 
complete.  They  were  all  of  the  same  sort,  politely 
declininj^  his  services. 

He  had  faced  death  beside  Gilroy  and  beside 
Captain  French  with  soldierly  nonchalance  and 
bravery,  but  he  could  not  face  that  pile  of  letters 
without  something  very  like  tears  coming  into  his 
eyes. 

It  was  only  after  days  of  sharp  contest  with  his 
pride  and  independence  that  he  could  bring  himself 
to  the  distasteful  expedient  of  writing  to  Gilroy, 
from  whom  he  considered  that  he  had  already 
received  so  much  assistance.  Nor  ditl  the  thought 
of  the  service  which  he  had  happened  to  render 
Gilroy  at  Fish  Creek,  help  the  matter  any.  On  the 
contrary  it  made  him  feel  all  the  more  unwilling  to 
appeal  to  Gilroy. 

"But  it  must  be  done — there  doesn't  seem  to  be 
any  other  way  out  of  it  but  this,"  was  his  reluctant 
conclusion,  and  he  therefore  wrote  to  the  corres- 
pondent detailing  his  attempt  and  failure  to  obtain, 
through  his  own  exertions,  a  position.  He  directed 
the  letter  carefully  to  the  address  which  Gilroy  had 
given  him  and  dropped  it  into  the  post  with  the 
comfortable  assurance  that  this,  at  least,  would  bring 
some  kind  of  success. 


AN    INDEPF.NDENT    VENTURE. 


^75 


"I'll  not  count  on  fretting  an  answer  from  thi*^ 
until  three  weeks,"  he  said  to  himself.  When  that 
period  had  passed  without  brinrrinf^  a  word  from 
Gilroy  his  expectancy  alternated  between  the  keen- 
est despondency  and  the  liveliest  fears;  but  the 
former  steadily  f^ained  the  ascendancy  with  each 
passing  day. 

When  he  could  no  longer  invent  any  plausible 
explanation  for  the  failure  other  than  Gilroy's 
permanent  absence,  unaccountable  indifference  or 
death,  Rodney  j^^ave  up  all  hope  in  that  direction 
and  apjain  turned  his  thoughts  upon  his  own  re- 
sources. 

His  first  move  was  to  urge  upon  his  mother  the 
desirability  of  starting  upon  their  visit  to  Illinois 
before  the  cold  weather  should  begin.  She  con- 
sented more  readily  than  he  had  anticipated  and 
before  the  first  frost  whitened  the  ground  about  Ft. 
Qu'  Appelle  they  were  on  their  way  to  Chicago, 
where  "Uncle  Rob"  was  to  meet  them  on  one  of  the 
frequent  trips  to  the  city,  which  he  was  obliged  to 
make  in  pursuit  of  his  vocation  of  drover  or  "  .stock 
buyer." 

Rodney  would  have  been  ashamed  to  confess 
how  wonderful  the  beginning  of  that  first  ride  upon 
a  railway  train  seemed  to  him;  but  when  the  train 
at  last  came  to  its  final  halt  in  the  Union  depot  in 
Chicago,  he  confidentially  remarked  to  his  mother: 

"It  seems  as  though  we  had  always  lived  on  the 
cars — don't  it,  mother?" 

"Yes;  and  it  don't  seem   as  though  this   awful 


176 


THE    YOUNG   NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


rumble  and  clack-a-ty-clack  would  ever  get  out  of 
my  head  and  ears,"  replied  Mrs.  Merton. 

They  found  Uncle  Bob  awaiting  them  inside  the 
gate.  He  was  a  jolly,  hearty  man,  who  laughed 
loudly  on  every  occasion  which  offered  the  slightest 
pretext  for  merriment. 

"Well,  boy,  now  for  the  hotel  and  a  good  square 
meal!  Then,  after  your  ma  and  I've  had  a  little  visit, 
we'll  go  out  and   take  in  the  sights." 

"All  right,  Uncle  Bob.  If  you  don't  mind  I'd 
rather  see  the  newspaper  offices  than  anything  else. 
Have  you  ever  been  in  them?" 

"Never.  But  I  can't  go  younger  than  to-night. 
So  we'll  manage  it  some  way." 

The  second-class  hotel  at  which  the  drover 
stopped  seemed  a  marvel  of  magnificence  to  Mrs. 
Merton  and  Rodney. 

By  the  time  dinner  was  over  and  Mrs.  Merton 
and  her  brother  had  finished  their  visit  in  the  hotel 
parlor,  it  was  five  o'clock. 

"Now's  a  good  time  to  go  round  by  the  news- 
paper offices  on  Fifth  Avenue  and  see  the  boys 
hustling  out  the  evening  papers." 

It  was  a  strange  and  interesting  sight  to  Rodney 
to  watch  the  ragged  array  of  newsboys  in  front  of 
each  of  the  evening  paper  offices,  their  arms  piled 
with  the  damp  papers  fresh  from  the  great  perfecting 
presses  which  were  thundering  away  in  the  base- 
ment below. 

He  forced  his  way  through  the  motley  crowd  of 
urchins,  who  were  laughing,  quarreling,  singing  and 


Vim 


of 


13 


.-ji„ 


RODNEY  AND  THE  CHICAGO  NEWSBOYS; 


AN    INDEI'ENDKNT   VKNTURE. 


177 


M. 


V  vtr.. 


V- 


i'OKjt, 


fij:;luinj:j,  close  up  to  one  of  the  basement  windows 
through  which  he  could  obtain  a  view  of  the 
presses.  There  was  something  tremendously  thrill- 
ing; and  almost  supernatural  to  Rodney  in  the  j^reat 
whirliuj^  cylinders,  the  seeminj^ly  endless  roll  of 
"white  paper"  which  unw')und  itself  into  printed  and 
folded  sheets  at  the  other  end  of  the  presses. 

"I  supi)ose  its  too  late  for  me  to  try  to  fjet  a  place 
to-day,  don't  you?"  he  inquired  of  his  uncle. 

"Yes;  we  would'nt  have  time.  Our  train  'goes 
out  at  seven  o'clock  and  we  will  have  to  eat  supper 
in  the  meantime.  But  you  can  come  in  most  any 
time,  for  I  live  only  fifty  miles  out  and  have  to 
come  in  every  week  with  cars  of  stock.  I  can  get 
you  a  pass  to  come  in  on  whenever  you  want 
one." 

Rodney  then  bought  an  assortment  of  the  papers 
and  they  started  back  for  their  hotel. 

Had  Rodney  been  less  absorbed  in  examining 
the  papers  he  could  not  have  escaped  from  noticing 
the  sensation  that  his  leather-bound  white  felt  hat 
and  Northwestern  breeches,  which  fitted  his  legs 
tightly  and  buttoned  at  the  knees,  created  among 
the  newsboys  and  thepassers;buthis  pre-occupation 
spared  him  this  annoyance. 

After  another  hearty  meal  in  the  hotel,  they 
again  took  the  cars  and  arrived  at  the  little  country 
town,  in  which  Uncle  Bob's  cosy  home  was  situated, 
a  little  before  nine  in  the  evening. 

Rodney's  dread  of  meeting  the  remainder  of  the 
family  vanished  as  soon  as   he   heard  the  kindly 


:HW|' 


I7R 


THK   YOUN(;   NEVVSrATER    SCIOUT. 


voice  of  Aunt  Susan,  ami  saw  the  round,  merry  faces 
of  his  cousins,  May  and   I'^ank. 

The  two  boys  soon  retired  to  the  room  wliich 
they  were  to  sliare  during  Rodney's  visit;  but  it  was 
dangerously  near  midniLjht  when  Frank  exacted  the 
last  narrative  of  Rodney's  experiences  in  the 
rebellion  from  the  youn^  newspaper  scout,  who  was 
henceforth  to  be  a  veritable  hero  in  the  eyes  of 
Frank  and  the  other  village  boys  of  his  "set." 

Rodney's  first  request,  on  the  following  morning, 
when  Frank  volunteered  to  show  him  the  town,  was 
to  be  taken  to  the  ofTicc  of  the  local  paper. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


A  SMAI.I-    FOOTING. 


i  i  \    KNOW  'Corkcy'  Simpson  who  sets  type  on  the 

I  J\i'c(>ri/,"  explained  I'lank,  as  the  two  boys 
walked  down  the  villai;e  street.  "And  he'll  show 
us  all  there  is  to  see  in  the  office.  lie  writes  most 
oflhelocals  himself  and  ai^oodmanyof  the  town  folks 
believe  that  he  is  the  local  correspondent  of  the  Chi- 
cai^o  ])apers," 

"Do  you  think  that  we  could  i^et  him  to  tell  us 
that?  You  see  I  want  to  t^et  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  some  of  the  Chicaijo  editt^rs  and  he'd  be  just  the 
one  to  ^et  it  from  if  we  could  manage  it,"  said  Rod- 
ney. 

"I'll  try,  anyway,"  answered  Frank,  who  was 
greatly  flattered  at  the  prospect  of  being  of  any 
assistance  to  so  heroic  a  personage  as  Rodney. 

They  climbed  a  dark  and  dirty  stairway  and 
found  themselves  in  a  big  room,  which  looked  bare 
and  empty  in  spite  of  the  type  cases,  imposing 
tables,  presses  and  type  galleys  with  which  it  was 
cluttered. 

"Corkey,"  who  was  the  only  inhabitant  of  the 
place,  slipped  from  the  high  stool  upon  which  he  was 
setting,  clapped  a  slug  into  his  composing  stick  to 
hold  the  unfinished  line  of  type  in  place,  and  hobbled 

179 


Hi 


1 80 


THE   YOUNG   NKNVSI'Al'ER     SCOUT. 


;  1 


=  I., 


forward  to  welcome  his  visitors.  At  every  ste[)  his 
cork  le^  ^ave  an  aiuhble  squeak  which  revealeil  to 
Ko(hiey  the  probable  derivation  of  the  fellows  cur- 
ious nickname. 

After  introductions  were  over  it  did  not  take 
1^'rank  lon^  to  hint  at  the  distinguished  nature  of 
their  ^uest,  and  the  conference  ended  by  Corkey's 
taking  them  bodily  into  his  confidence  and  not  onl)' 
revealinj^  the  fact  that  he  was,  as  Frank  had  sur- 
mised, the  local  correspondent  of  the  city  dailies, 
but  he  volunteered  his  services  in  any  capacity  that 
mi^dit  serve  Rodney's  pleasure. 

The  remainder  of  their  visit  was  spent  in  exam- 
ining the  mechanical  appliances  used  in  the  making 
ot  the  country  weekly. 

"You  see,"  explained  Corkey,  we  only  set  up 
the  local  news  and  advertisements  here.  The  re- 
mainder of  the  paper  is  printed  in  Chicago,  by 
a  'ready-print'  or  'patent-inside'  house.  That  part 
of  it  contains  the  general  news  of  the  day,  the 
'Agricultural'  and  'Home'  departments.  I  tell  you 
they  have  an  immense  establishment  in  there  at  the 
American  Newspaper  Union;  that's  where  we  buy 
our  patent  inside.  They  print  or  furnish  plates  to 
about  three  thousand  local  dailies  and  weeklies." 

This  was  an  interesting  feature  in  the  production 
of  a  weekly  paper,  of  which  Rodney  had  been 
entirely  ignorant.     It  set  him  to  thinking. 

"If  I  fail  to  get  any  place  on  one  of  the  big  dailies 
I  will  try  one  of  those  'patent-inside'  houses,"  he 
resolved. 


;r 


A   SMAI.I.  lOUTING. 


I8l 


llis 
to 

icur- 


Armcd  witli  a  letter  to  the  editor  of  each  ot  tlie 
Cliieaj^o  papers,  for  w  liieii  Corkey  was  local  corre- 
spoiuleiit,  R(j{lney  again  accoinpanird  his  uncle  to 
the  l)i|^  cit>-. 

A  ride  iij)  a  creakiii<^^  and  hitching  elevator, 
which  made  him  feel  paiiiliilly  unsteady,  landed  him 
on  the  toj)  Hour  of  the  first  ne\vspa[)er  tjffice  on 
his  list. 

•'Manat^ini,^  editor  second  doo'  to  de  left!"  calK-d 
the  colored  elevator  boy,  as  he  shut  the  grated  door 
of  the  elevator  shari)ly  behind  Rodney. 

'A  stern,  bald-headed  man  sat  at  a  large  flat  desk 
in  the  center  of  the  room,  o[)ening  and  reading  a 
batch  of  telegrams.  At  his  left,  in  the  corner,  a 
younger  man  clicking  the  t)pe\vriter. 

Rodney's  heart  beat  with  terrific  violence  as  he 
stood,  w  ith  his  scout's  hat  in  hand,  waiting  for  the 
editor  to  look  up. 

The  latter  seemed  entirely  oblivious  to  the  boy's 
presence  until  the  last  telegram  had  been  read  and 
tossed  into  a  flat  wire  basket. 

Then  the  man  looked  up  and  said: 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  with  a  sharpness  which  startled 
Rodney  and  seemed  to  imply  that  it  was  he  and 
not  the  boy  who  had  been  kept  waiting  until 
patience  had  nearly  ceased  to  be  a  virtue. 

Rodney  could  not,  on  the  spur  of  the  instant, 
summon  an  answer,  but  simply  handed  the  ediior 
Corkey's  letter  of  introduction. 

"Go  to  the  city  editor,  next  door,"  was  the  only 
reply  which  the  editor  made  as  he  handed  back  the 


I  82 


THE    YOUNG    NEWSPAPER    SCOUT. 


i:rf 


letter  and  wheeled  about,  in  his  swivel  chair,  to 
speak  to  the  stenoijjraphcr. 

Witli  tills  blunt  dismissal  Rodney  entered  the 
city  editor's  room. 

The  desk  at  which  that  di^tjnitary  sat  smoking  a 
col)  pi[)e  while  holding;  a  telephone  receiver  to  his 
car  was  i)artitioned  otT  from  the  front  ot  the  room 
i)\-  a  low  railin^:^.  At  his  back  were  several  plain 
pine  tables  littered  with  small  sheets  of  white  print 
paper. 

When  the  man  had  shouted  "All  ri«^]it — so  long!" 
inlo  the  telephone,  and  turned  his  keen  gray  eyes 
upon  Rodney,  the  letter  was  again  passed  from  the 
hoy's  hand.  In  a  voice  slightly  "shaky"  with  ex- 
citeiuent  Rodney  stammered: 

"I've  been  all  through  the  Riel  Rebellion  as 
assistant  to  the  correspondent  of  the  Lo/nion  Illus- 
trated ucics  and  one  of  the  Montreal  papers,  and  can 
refer  you  to  him." 

This  seemed  to  slightly  soften  the  severity  with 
which  he  seemed  about  to   dismiss   the  application. 

"That's  all  right,  but  we're  full.  In  fact,  I've  got 
to  cut  down  the  local  staff." 

It  was  with  still  greater  trepidation  that  Rodney 
climbed  several  flights  of  stairs  leading  to  the  city 
editor's  room  of  the  next  paper. 

The  first  object  which  met  his  eyt-  was  a  placard 
dangling  from  the  editorial  desk,  on  which  was 
printed,  in  bold  black  letters,  the  announcement: 


"no  vacancies." 


He  turned  out  of  the  room  as  quickly  as  he  had 


A   SMALL  FOOTING. 


183 


CX- 


entered  and  went  down  the  stairs  with  heavT   and 
discouraged  tread. 

His  subsequent  calls  were  only  variations  of  the 
same  treatment,  but  he  kept  perseveringly  to  the 
end  of  the  list. 

It  was  time  for  his  train  home  when  he  had  made 
his  last  fruitless  application,  and  he  spent  the  whole 
homeward  ride  in  gazing  disconsolately  out  of  the 
car  window  and  reflecting  bitterly  upon  his  failure 
to  receive  a  reply  to  his  letter  to  Gilroy,  which 
seemed  to  be  the  cause  of  all  his  later  woes. 

But  this  mood  soon  exhausted  itself,  and  he 
thought  of  it  as  very  childish  and  unreasonable. 

In  the  morning  he  regained  his  old  courage  and 
resolution,  and  dropped  in  upon  Corkey  with  a 
cheerful  face,  and  laughingly  related  his  experience 
of  the  previous  day. 

The  editor  of  the  Record  was  absent  on  a  pro- 
tracted fishing  excursion,  and  Corkey  was  at  liberty 
to  entertain  as  many  of  his  friends  as  possible  so 
long  as  he  got  out  the  paper.  Consequently  Rodney 
tarried  longer  than  usual,  and  made  a  searching  ex- 
amination of  the  "exchanges"  and  the  office  in  gen- 
eral. 

Among  the  exchanges  he  found  a  long  open 
manila  envelope   containing  printed  matter. 

"Those  are  sample  sheets  from  the  patent-inside 
house  andyou'll  always  find  two  or  three  rattling ^good 
stories  and  sketches  in  them.  They  run  to  adventures 
generally.  Take  'em  home  with  you  and  read  'em 
if  you  like,"  said  Corkey,  as  he  saw  the  envelope. 


IS,, 


Tin',    VOUNC.    NKAVSrAPKR     S('(MIT 


Kotliu'V  iliil  so.  Vhc  ski'tclu's  stuMiiod  very 
(liioil  .111(1  simple.  They  wcvc  m.nkcd  "oriL^in.il" 
.\ihl  tluMrloro  must  liavc  been  punhased  l)\tlie  p.il- 
iMil-inside  house. 

"Why  tluMe  isn't  half  as  nuuh  to  that  story  as 
there  was  io  the  one  that  C'ol,  Williams  told  that 
ni,i;ht  by  the  eamp  lire  at  Loon  Lake,"  tlioiiL;lit 
Rtxlney.  Siuldenly  the  inspiration  Hashed  i.jion 
him. 

"I'll  write  out  the  eolonels'  adventure  and  offer 
it  to  them!" 

C'oikt^y  furnished  him  with  a  nuantity  of  neatly 
cut  "eopy-paper"  and  he  sat  down  to  work. 

l^it  he  eould  not  word  the  oi)enin<^  sentence  to 
suit  him.  lie  woiulereil  lu)W  adventure  stories 
usually  be^an.  Another  inspiration  came  to  his  as- 
sistance. 1  luir\ini;' home  to  his  uncle's  he  rapidly 
"went  throus^h"  several  months'  numbers  of  the 
YoufJi's  Conif'iinion,  which  b'ratdv  always  kept  neatly 
tiled  {ox  re-readiuL;-,  makini;'  a  careful  study  of  "the 
atlventure  pa^e"  in  each  number.  Whenhehail  com- 
l)leted  this  investigation,  he  hail  i^ained  a  clear  idea 
of  the  proper  construction  and  essentials  of  a  good 
adventure  story. 

Then  he  attain  went  to  the  desk  and  wrote  with 
a  rapidity  which  surprised  him,  the  story  which  hail 
so  interested  him  as  it  came  from  the  lips  of  the  scout. 

Frank  came  in  just  as  he  finished  the  last  paq;e, 
to  i^et  him  to  go  to  the  grove  and  gather  some  wal- 
nuts. 

•'  Well,  see  what  yoa  think  of  this  first  and  then 


A    SMALL   l(>(»l  INC, 


iKt; 


I'll  _l:<>,"  was  his  rfj)ly,  as  l''rank  (lr(t|)|)C(l  iiit(t  llic 
in-arcsl  (  liair  and  ('orkcy  Ifit.  his  stool  and  haiicd 
against  the  conicr  of  the-  drsk,  coiiiposii^;  sli(k  in 
hand,  whih*  Kodiu-y  read  his  (list  alU-nipt  at  a 
story. 

Iht"  cxclainationsor  admiration  vvlii(  h  he  irccivcd 
lioni  his  aiidi'Micc  made  Kodni-y  Ircl  not  a  little 
elated. 

"  To-nKHTovv  I'm  ^'<>in^^  all  over  it,  al^lin,  eare- 
lnll\-,"  said  Rodney. 

"  y\nd  il  )'on  like  I'll  look  oiil  for  the  |)nn(t  nat  ion 
a  little.     That's  very  important,  yon    know;  a   pra( 
tieal  printer  has  to  learn    lliiil   earcdiill)',"    sni;,i;esled 
Corke)'. 

This  .sni^i^estion  was  j^natefnlly  a(  ((•])ted  and  the 
mannscript  was  left  with  him,  while  I'rank  and  Kod- 
nc>y  hnished  tlu:  day  I))'  sec  iirini^  a  lat  hai^  <»!  nuts 
and  shootiiiL,^  several  scjnirrels. 

( )n  the  morrow  Kodney  a^^lin  labored  laithlnlly 
on  his  story,  cuttini;  it  <lown  to  the  exact  leiuMh  of 
the  story  in  prt)<)f  siieet  and  niakini^  varions  ehan^His 
for  its  improvement. 

"  I  wonder  how  it  ivoiild  look  in  print,"  he  mused, 
as  he  made  the  last  correction. 

"  I'll  show  you  in  about  an  lionr,"  (juietly  respond- 
ed Corkey.  "It's  short  and  I'm  j^^c^in^^o  set  it  u])  and 
i;ive  you  a  i^ood  clean  j)roof  of  it  to  take  into  the 
etlitor,  instead  of  the  written  cojiy.  It  will  be  very 
much  clearer." 

The  boys  were  delie^dited  with  the  proof  which 
Corkey  presented  to  them,  and  in  the  morning  Rod- 


Il  ' 


1 86 


THK    lOUNG    NEWSPAPER     SCOUT. 


ncy  .'i^.'iin  hoarded  tlic  cars  with  new  courap^c  and 
hope. 

The  editor  received  him  with  so  niucli  kindh' 
consideration  tliat  Rodney  ventured  to  at  r>ucc  make 
application  for  a  '•  bei^inner's  position,"  and  pre- 
sented the  story  as  a  sample  of  his  work. 

"  Wlierc  did  you  i)ick  up  this  incident?  "  incjuired 
tlie  editor. 

"Around  the  camp  fire,  when  we  were  on  the 
island  at  Loon  Lake." 

Then  the  editor,  b)'  occasional  questions,  drew 
from  Rodney  an  account  of  his  experiences  in  the 
reliellion  and  also  of  his  independent  strui^^le  to 
obtain  a  footint^  in  the  ranks  of  newspaper  work. 

"Well,  I'll  take  this  sketch  and  pay  you  seven 
dollars  for  it,  and  LU  L;ive  you  a  trial  as  copyholder, 
at  six  dollars  a  week  to  bet^in  with,  for  the  youni; 
fellow  who  has  been  with  us  in  that  capacity  has 
just  got  a  position  as  reporter  on  the  Nczvs.  It  will 
just  about  pay  your  board;  but  perhaps  you  can  oc- 
casionally chink  in  a  sketch  which  will  help  you  out 
with  a  little  extra." 

"At  last!"  was  Rodney's  inward  exclamation  of 
iiratitude  as  he  heard  the  words.  He  was  almost 
surprised  at  his  success,  and  was  almost  as  over- 
joyed as  when  he  had  secured  the  position  with 
Gilroy,  at  the  old  fort.  He  could  scarcely  wait  to 
carry  the  good  news  to  his  mother  and  Frank  and 
Corkey. 

They  rejoiced  with  him  as  only  big-hearted  boys 
can  rejoice  with  an  admired  mate    in   a   success   to 


A    SMALI.  FOOTINCI. 


187 


which  they  felt  that  they  had  in  sonic  measure  con- 
tributed. 

Hoth  were  at  the  train,  Monday  morning,  to  "see 
him  off"  as  he  went  to  bei^in  his  first  day's  hdjor. 


CHATTER   XX. 


A  GREAT  TKIUMPH. 


ALTHOUGH  Rodney  found  the  task  of  "holdin.i,' 
copy,"  listening  to  the  monotonous  voice  of  the 
proofreader  and  keeping  his  mind  concentrated 
upon  the  copy  in  hand,  to  see  tliat  it  corresponded 
in  every  word  and  figure  with  the  proof,  a  very  exact- 
ing one,  the  work  was  quite  as  pleasant  and  agree- 
able as  he  had  anticipated. 

He  soon  grew  accustomed  to  his  surroundings 
and  was  welcomed  in  full  and  hearty  fellowship  by 
the  members  of  the  editorial  staff,  who,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  editor-in-chief,  were  young  men. 

During  the  noon  hour,  before  and  after  lunch, 
Rodney  fell  naturally  into  the  habit  of  drifting  into 
the  artists'  room,  where  the  younger  men  congrega- 
ted. Story-telling  was  always  the  order  of  the  hour, 
and  as  no  silent  partners  were  allowed  he  was  forced 
to  draw  for  his  contribution  to  the  impromptu  social 
entertainment,  upon  his  "roughing-it"  experience  in 
the  rebellion,  and  it  was  plainly  evident  to  Rodney 
that  this  experience  increased  the  respect  in  which 
they  held  him  as  a  member  of  the  craft. 

Keen  and  constant  observation  of  all  the  details 
of  the  varied  departments  of  the  work  which  went 
on  about  him,  and  ultimately  passed  under  his  in  the 
copy,  was  a  broad  education  to  Rodney,  which  he 
mastered  with  devouring  eagerness. 

188 


A   GREAT   TRIUMPH. 


189 


His  cvcnini^s  were  spent  in  the  study  of  some 
subject  which  the  work  of  the  day  su,i,^<;ested  and 
tile  montiily  sl<etcli  which  he  regularly  submitted  to 
the  editor  was  not  only  as  re<rularly  acceptcil,  but 
showed  sucli  marked  improvement  as  to  elicit  words 
of  praise  from  the  young  men  who  congregated  in 
the  artist's  room. 

"Why  don't  you- try  your  hand  at  a  special  for 
one  of  the  dailies?  Or  perhaps  a  sketch  is  more  in 
your  line.  I  know  a  dozen  of  the  boys  who  make 
from  ten  to  fifteen  dollars  a  week  out  of  their 
specials"  suggested  the  editor  of  the  "miscellany" 
department. 

This  suggestion  was  immediately  acted  upon  by 
the  preparation  of  an  article  upon  "The  Mounted 
Police  of  Canada,"  in  which  he  drew  his  coloring 
from  his  own  observation,  the  accounts  which  he 
had  heard  from  the  scouts,  wiiile  he  gathered  the 
"solid  facts  and  figures"  from  a  p-^rusal  of  luiglish 
and  Canadian  journals,  which  he  found  by  diligent 
search  in  the  public  libraries. 

Good  fortune  rewarded  his  efforts  where  before 
he  had  failed,  and  the  article  was  accepted.  lie 
was  not  a  little  surprised,  when,  after  weeks  of  wait- 
ing, the  articlb  appeared  in  print  with  the  "solid 
facts"  upon  which  he  had  so  largely  relied  for  its  suc- 
cess, largely  expunged. 

In  this  way  the  winter  passed  to  February. 

As  the  family  sat  about  the  pleasant  base-burner 
in  Uncle  Bob's  sitting-room,  one  Sunday  evening, 
Mrs.  Merton  said: 


1 90 


THE   VOUNG    NKWSI'AI'KR     SCOUT. 


"Rfxlticy,  I  wisli  you  coultl  ^ct  sumctliiiicj  to  do 
in  the  sprinj^  tliat  would  t.ikc  you  out  of  doors  .iml 
j^ivc  you  the  t^ood  hcaltliful  exercise  tliat  a  l)oy 
needs  and  you  liave  always  had  before." 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Uncle  Bob,  "I'm  with  you  in 
that,  Alary,  It  's  no  <;ood  for  boys  the  ac;e  of  tlicse 
two  to  be  cooped  up  in  ahousc  or  office,  pouring"  over 
books  and  papers.  Time  cnoucjh  for  that  after  they 
arc  men.  Wliat  they  need  is  to  have  a  little  more 
rouijjhinijj  it." 

"I  was  just  thinking,"  said  Rodney,  "of  the 
strini:^  of  traps  that  I  had  out  last  winter,  and  how  I 
would  like  to  turn  out  early  in  the  mornin^]^  and 
'make  the  rounds'  of  them  once  more.  Lookinc^  at 
the  snow  on  the  branches  of  those  pines  out  there 
by  the  cjate  makes  me  just  hunc^ry  for  a  good  long 
tramp  on  my  rachcts." 

"And  wouldn't  I  like  to  go  with  you,  though!" 
seconded  Frank,  closing  the  copy  of  Ballantyne's 
"Young  Fur  Traders,"  from  which  he  was  reading. 

"Say,"  he  added,  "to-morrow  is  Washington's 
birthday,  and  you  don't  have  to  go  back  to  your 
work  till  Tuesday.     Let's  go  out  rabbit-shooting." 

"All  right.  I'd  forgotten  that  it  was  a  holiday, 
but  I  remember  now  that  the  boys  said  so,"  res- 
ponded Rodney. 

When  nuts,  apples  and  books  had  been  enjoyed 
through  the  long  evening,  the  two  boys  went  to  their 
chamber  to  spend  another  hour  in  a  secret  confer- 
ence upon  the  preparations  for  the  morrow's  hunt. 

They  awakened  early,  to  find  that  a  light  snow 


A    r.REAT    TRIUMPH. 


191 


'ne  s 


1<T 


had  fallen  during  the  niijht,  which  would  render  the 
huntinij  prime. 

Frank  put  hi;,  ^un  in  order,  and  then  they  went 
together  to  borrow  one    for   Rodney   from  a  friend 

After  a  hasty  breakfast,  foraged  from  the  pantry, 
they  set  out  with  Uno,  Frank's  bea<^le  hound,  eager 
for  the  chase. 

"Let's  go  first  to  the  nursery,  where  the  rabbits 
feed  on  the  young  seedlings,"  suggested  h'rank, 
leading  the  way. 

This  was  in  the  edge  of  the  village,  and  as  they 
came  in  sight  of  it  Rodney  exclaimed  : 

"Gracious  !  Just  look  at  that;  what  a  perfect 
network  of  tracks.  This  place  must  be  fairly  alive 
with  them  !" 

Frank's  answer  was  directed  to  Uno,  who 
bounded  in  among  the  seedlings  as  soon  as  the 
words   "Hunt  'cm  out"  escaped  FVank's  lips. 

A  moment  later  Rodney  exclaimed : 

"There  !  There  !"  and  the  reports  of  both  their 
guns  rang  out  upon  the  keen  frosty  air  with  a  famil- 
iar shock  which  thrilled  Rodney  through  and 
through. 

"Number  one  for  both  of  us  !"  said  Frank,  as 
each  picked  up  the  plump  rabbit  w^hich  his  first  shot 
had  killed. 

Their  guns  were  kept  warm  by  constant  firing 
until  the  forenoon  was  well  advanced,  when  Rod- 
ney remarked  : 

"  You've  bagged  ten  and  I'm  only  one  behind  you. 

This  is  all  we  can  possibly  use  in  our  family  with   a 
U 


10-^ 


'llli:    VolNi;    M'.W'sl'AI'h  K     ><()ll'. 


^'(H»(l  margin  for  (.'(>ikc\' and  tlic  Ifiriid  from  wlioin 
\'nii  honowi'd  tilt;  i\\\\\.  1  tliiiik  it's  a  .sh.imt'  lo  kill 
inori'  J^^'llm•  than  you  can  |)os>il)l\'  make  use- of;  don't 

"  \'cs,  I  do,"  replied  I'^raiik;  "  suppose  wc  j^o  bark 
1)\'  the  \va\'  of  the  postoffice  and  j^et  tiie  mail," 

"  I  suppose  \'ou'd  be  just  as  anxious  to  appear  on 
the  main  street  if  you  had  only  your  ^un  instead  of 
such  a  fat  striiii^  of  rabbits  to  carr\',"  lauL,diin_<4l\'  re- 
sponded Rodnc)'. 

"  No,  I'm  //ot  ashamed  of  that  sttinijj  and  I  don't 
lare  who  sees  it,  either.  Hut  I  do  want  to  L;et  tlie 
mail,  too     honest  Injun."  replied  Frank, 

"  Whew!  Here's  one  for  both  of  us!"  exclaimed 
I^'rank,  as  he  took  a  c(jui)le  of  letters  from  the  post- 
master's iiand  and  passed  one  of  tliem  to  Rodney, 

As  they  passed  out  of  the  postoffice,  Kodney 
exclaimed: 

"Oh,  Frank,  just  take  my  fj^un  a  minute!  It's 
from  Gilroy!" 

They  stootl  still  upon  the  steps  while  Rodney 
tore  o[)en  tiie  enveU)i)e  witii  eai^er  ami  tremblin:.; 
fmi^ers  and  read  aloud: 

"Mk.  Rodnky  Mkkton,  Ft,  Qu'Appellc,  etc, 

''Dear  Lad:  Awful  sorry  I  didn't  i^et  \'our  letter, 
but  I've  been  '  outside  the  pale  of  civilization'  ever 
since  it  was  written,  up  to  this  date.  J^ut  'all's  well 
that  ends  well,'  and  this  endiuL;'  I  think  will  suit  you, 
for  I  want  you  to  come  on  at  once  U)  Montreal 
( check  enclosed)  antl  l;o  with  me  on  a  newspaper 
exploration  through  the  Hudson   Jiay  county.     Pay 


b.'icU 


Jfi 


(liicy 


■^U***"*'***' 


'DKAR   sir— com  R   Ar   ONI  K,  "    IK 


A    GREAT    TRIUMPH. 


J93 


5.-'0(T  pet  month  .iinl  .ill  t'\|K'ii.scs.  Six  in  the  party 
.md  all  jjooti  lclK)\\>.,  too.  So  you  sec  we'll  Inmt 
the  musk-ox  on  his  native  heatli,  aiul  perhaps  tlio 
l»olar  bc.ir,  too  tor  there  is  no  lellinL,'  lu>\v  f.ii 
north  we  may  ^m).  The  expeilition  is  splendidly 
e(|uip|)ed  and  has  i)lenty  ot  money  behind  it.  Lose 
no  time  in  reaching'  here  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment.  It  you  know  of  a  ^ood  straight  lad  abotit 
your  a^^e  who  has  the  ri^lit  tind)er  in  hii;  and  is  in 
lor  this  kind  ol  thinij  brinj^  him  alonj^  at  lialf  the  |)ay 
I  named  lor  you.  H  )'ou  cannot  eomc,  lele^jraph, 
otherwise  I  shall  e.xpect  yuu.        Vours, 

"(lll.KOV." 

The  two  l)oy->  looked  into  each  other's  faces  and 
imderslood  the  "volumes"  which  thev  were  unable  to 
Speak. 

"  Do  \ou  suppose  the\'  will  let  us?"  was  the 
tremendous  problem  which  rose  to  their  lips.  Hut 
they  did  not  sj)eak  it.     Instead,  Rodney  exclaimed: 

*'  Oh,  wouldn't  it  be  foo  i^ood  fof  earth  if  we  could!" 

Frank's  onlv  answer  was  a  bovish- - 

"Wniooj)!"  which  i)assersby  i)robably  interpreted 
as  irrepressible  enthusiasm  over  his  heavy  string  of 
rabbits. 

That  exenini;"  the  familx'  council  assumed  an 
unwonted  seriousness  and  its  members  deliberated 
pro  and  con  over  the  great  question  before  them. 

Hut  good  Uncle  Hob  brought  matters  to  final  close 
b}'  saying: 

"  Well,  Mar\',  1  sa\-  let  'em  go.  No  use  in  keep- 
ing theih  over  the  coals  any  longer.     We  might  just 


*! 


T94 


THE    YOUNfi    XEWSPAFER     SCOUT. 


as  well  tlccidc  it  riu^ht  now  and  hcM'c;  and  for  one,  so 
far  as  Frank  is  concerned,  I  ij^ive  my  consent."' 

"Just  as  you  think  best.  Robert,"  promptly  ac(|ui- 
esced  I'^'ank's  nKJther. 

"Well,  I  think  it  will  be  better  for  Rodne\'  than 
stayin<^  in  an  office,"  said  Mrs.  Merton. 

y\nd  so  the  bo3s  went  to  bed  too  hap])y  to  sleep 
or  do  anythint^  but  plan  for  the  j^rcat  expedition 
into  the  "Hudson  Bay  country." 


;i|i:i.;!l! 


